


Redemption

by Emet_Selch_Lover



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Drama & Romance, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/F, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Mutual Pining, Other, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, redemption arch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-10-28 09:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20776625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emet_Selch_Lover/pseuds/Emet_Selch_Lover
Summary: Its over, the winner gets to write the next chapter of the story. So why, pray tell, wont the Warrior of Light let him die?----Emet-Selch gets another chance at life free from the chains of the past that bound him. He is determined to see the good in the worlds around him. Even though the Scions are angry at their Warriors choices and the fact that their enemy lives Emet strives to leave the mantle of Ascian behind him...





	1. Chapter 1

He stood upon the precipice of death, he could feel it, the reaching of its cold fingers. The Underworld calling him down to rest. Hades’ shoulders slumped as he reached up to graze the glowing wound in his chest. A gentle smile crossed his lips as he heard her take a step forward. His gaze returned to her, the Viera that he had grown so fond of. He had followed her around during her adventure, only partially out of necessity for his plans. The other part had been curiosity, her soul glowed with familiarity and before their fight he realized why; realized who. His lover, his dear friend, the one who he tried to convince to help with Zodiark all those eons ago. Her, whose name he could not even fully recall. 

The Viera’s mismatching eyes stared at him with an intense emotion he could not place. Her hands reaching out to him, he wanted to speak, to tell her to remember all of the lost souls in Amaurot, to take his burden of vengeance from him. Instead her hands now free of her weapons cradled his face, her lips moved, she was speaking to him. What could the Warrior of Light possibly have for him? Her hands were so warm compared to his cooling skin, he could happily let death take him here. She would remember for him, she would become the stewards of their souls. Their hopes, their dreams; she would do it for him. 

Suddenly his eyes opened wide, even as the darkness settled in. She had her hands cradled around him: his body laying in her lap. One hand upon his chest, the other making sure his head was resting upon the soft spot in her armor. His name, she was calling his name; not Emet-Selch, not the Ascian, nay she was calling his true name.

“Hades,” Her broken voice reached his ears, “Hades yah cannot die here.” 

Ah, but that was the point was it not? The winner decides the history, the winner gets to decide how to move forward. He was the loser, he was no longer needed in this story. His terrible contributions had already been written in the annals of history. It was her turn now, to shape the story of the world, to write the wrongs he brought upon the Source. Pain constantly laced through his shape, as if she was trying to capture his soul. To keep it whole and in the body that was before her. With what little strength he had Hades lifted his hand to touch hers. He could feel the tears splashing against his cheeks. While her form was blurring he patted her hand. She had to let him go, but what would let her do that?

“Hero,” His voice croaked, it was insanely hard to speak. To move his mortal lips as his very soul was being pulled into the Underworld. “No, Swath.” There was a choked sob as he realized he had her attention. “Remember us -”

“No,” She spat, silencing him. “I da not have tha time to remember somethin yah should be doing. Yah have a chance ta make up for things.” Her voice petered out for him, he could see she was still speaking, but could not hear her. 

Nevertheless he smiled internally, his time was up could she not see this? Death was taking him, she was only fighting against the inevitable. Besides, why was she trying so hard to save her enemy? Had she too grown fond of him? Hades tried to squeeze her hand but found no strength remaining, instead his hand slipped, and fell to the side. Her lips moved, clearly a curse. Beside her the Miqo’te woman appeared touching her shoulder, probably telling her to let him go. That he was not worth it. 

Good, she would knock some sense into the hard head of the Warrior of Light. Hades had seen her time and time again pay attention to the Miqo’te woman’s words. It was clear that she held the blind woman in high regards. But with his fading eyesight he saw the Hero shrug off the hands that tried to stop her. 

Why? 

Why? 

Why was she trying so hard to keep him alive?

Hades’ view of her finally faded and turned to white. In fact, everything around him was white; he no longer felt her hands clutching him, instead only feeling a small sting on his chest where he assumed that she was still trying to heal him. As he collected himself, Hades realized he was not alone: and that his body was not free. Dark chains kept him grounded to the spot, and a man clothed in a familiar white stood before him. It was a long moment of silence between them before the man stepped forward grabbing one of Hades’s hands and pulling - hard. With a sharp pain in his chest, a call and vision of the Warrior of Light, he felt the chains that bound him snap one by one. Suddenly, he was free, his body light airy and unnatural. No voices of the dead reached his ears, no whispers of the promised ending that he had been striving for. Nothing, his mind was silent except for his own spinning thoughts. Shocked he looked up to the man who had a mask that he knew.

“Hythlodaeus,” Hades breathed standing straight for the first time in eons. The other man beamed and smacked his friend on the shoulder; causing Hades to wince. 

“Hades! How does it feel to finally be free of that Primal?” Hythlodaeus reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face that Hades did not recognize. It was of a Elezen man in his twenties, bright blue eyes and white hair adoring his face. 

Hades felt his brow pull together in confusion. At the realization that he was free of the tempering, and that his friend wore a face that he did not know. “I cannot say.” He reached up, rolling his shoulders and looking down at the glowing blue hole in his chest. That as he turned to gaze back at his companion realized that Hythlodaeus had one as well. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak before a hand raised to silence him.

“Surely you can hear her?” Hythlodaeus glared at him with surprising ire. His friends sudden shift in tone brought even more confusion to his already spinning mind.

Hades could of course hear the Warrior of Light, Swath, calling and speaking to him. It was faint, but there. He nodded, and Hythlodaeus sighed a smile once again adorning his unfamiliar features. “Good, I knew she would not allow someone to die so similarly to I.” 

Hades’s frown grew. “Excuse me?” It seemed he was only capable of short bursts of speech, perhaps it was the cascade of freed emotions that stunted his ability to speak, or perhaps the whirl of thoughts that echoed through his mind. All his thoughts, thoughts of her, of the past, of the fact he was freed. Thoughts of the other Ascians, still chained to Zodiark. He stared at Hythlodaeus with continued confusion, the other man doing little to explain himself. Hythlodaeus paced around Hades wagging his index finger in the air, as if he was counting to himself. Those deep blue eyes darting looking at the fading chains that lay on the ground around them before looking up at Hades with an even wider grin. A small thin string appearing in front of him. Hythlodaeus turned and presented it to Hades. Who only looked at him with awe of a man who was lost. 

“This is your tie to her, fainter than I thought it would be honestly.” He regarded the string with curiosity and touched it, causing a sharp pain to shoot through the center of Hades’ wound. The golden eyed man crumpled to the ground and his old friend only laughed in triumph. “Faint but strong!” 

Hades glared at Hythlodaeus from his position on the floor. “Pray forgive me, my old friend, but I am wholly confused about this situation.” Perhaps it had been the pain that cleared his mind, but for the moment he was able to focus on the strange, but familiar, asshole before him. “I am supposed to be dead, am I not?”

“You are only partially dead my dear friend.” The Elezen swooped down helping Hades stand and dusting him off. “She is clinging to you, I assume it may be because of the familiarity of your wound, or she has truly grown fond of you.” A gentle smile appeared on his face, content, happy. “It was time she moved on from me, and I am glad it is you that has allowed her to do so.” 

Hades gripped his friend’s arm with a frown. “You? Hythlodaeus you said to me eons ago that,”

“That I gave up on her? That I surrender and give her wholly to you?” A smirk graced Hythlodaeus’s lips. “Pray tell Hades, how did that go for you? Did you remain by her side even after the sundering as I? Did you support her even in her most dire moments?” 

Hades paled, turning to look away. “Nay, you know I have done the opposite.” 

“That’s right,” Hythlodaeus shifted and pointed to the glowing thread. “And yet, that is still there for you. Her will to hold your soul, even though hers is broken.”

Hades winced, some lover he had truly been. He had pledged himself to Swaths whole form back in Amaurot, but he had fallen into contempt and anger whenever he saw a fragment of her soul. 

Oh, if he just followed the plan she would be whole once more. 

He would be able to hold her once more in his arms, and he would beg her forgiveness from his infidelity. Explain it was part of the plan to lay out the work towards bringing her and the others back from the brink of oblivion. 

“Fool,” Hythlodaeus’s angry voice pulled him from his thoughts. “How much of that was Zodiark and how much was that you? The Hades I knew may have been a lazy good for nothing but he loved her. He would have remained by her side even if she was fragmented.” 

Hades knew he was right, and could not face him because of that. No apologies would bring about forgiveness. He had pushed her, pushed Swath, to the very edge; to the point of having to kill him. All as a final test to see if she was worthy. She was, by the very creation magic that put him in this situation,she was. Her soul may have been split but she was still her. Which is why he had been so curious and drawn to her. The temptation to be with the one that he loved was ever present, even while he was tempered. Clutching his chest he felt the pain increasing, and looking towards the glowing thread he, surprisingly, felt tears come from his own eyes. 

“Hythlodaeus.” He groaned, trying to pull away and finding no resistance from his friend. “I wish for another chance. I wish to be by her side, to make up for my mistakes to,” He froze as he almost touched the thread. Then feeling a pang of misery explode in his chest. 

He had no right to ask for these things. 

“That’s right Hades, you do not have any right to ask for these things.” Hythlodaeus came to stand next to him watching Hades’ hand shake as it hovered of the thread. “But you want them anyways don’t you?” 

“Yes.” He hissed. “I wish for it, I crave it Hythlodaeus. I wish to see this world that she fought for so fervently through the eyes of a man untouched by a stronger beings will.” 

“Even with the knowledge that she herself may be tempered?” Hythlodaeus had a familiar irritating smile dancing upon his unfamiliar face. Making Hades fight to resist the temptation of rolling his eyes at his long time friend. 

“She fought for this world before being chosen to champion that dreaded creations will did she not?” He spat back, then blinked at the unbridled anger that he felt. He would not justify his actions and choices however tempered he was. But when it came to her he would fight for her actions because she did them with the belief that she could save everyone. Hythlodaeus’s smile grew wider, causing Hades to glare at him.

“There, that is the man I knew. It was if you yourself at one point did something similar.” Hythlodaeus leaned forward looking into his friend’s eyes. “And in a way you did, did you not? You remember the fires well, you believed if you weaved the laws of the world anew, that you gave the world a will of its own, it would be for the benefit of those who existed upon it.”

“That is in the past, we understand and know how that ended Hythlodaeus.” Hades grumbled.

The strange Elezen leaned back and tapped his chin. “You where the best candidate. But no longer, now you must rise up again.” Turning to look at the thread he let his hand close over on Hades’. “You must cast aside the role originally given to you, you are no longer of the fourteen, you are no longer Emet-Selch.” Those blue eyes turned to glare at him. “You are now Hades once again, and will be hers. Your mighty magic under her supervision.” His hand squeezed his companions with force. It was not anger but determination that seethed from Hythlodaeus. As if he was entrusting everything upon Hades shoulders. “You will guide her, you will protect her, you will stand where both of us have failed her.” Hades’s eyes were drawn to the glowing hole in his chest. 

“Hythlodaeus -” He began before being cut off by his friend.

“You will begin to right the thousands of wrongs you brought upon her beloved world, and to her. What you did was wrong, unjust, and of a tempered being.” Hythlodaeus stared at their clasped hands that hovered inches over the thread. “Your soul will be forever bound to her.” 

“It was never unbound.” Hades kept his gaze fixated on their hands as well. He could hear the arguing she was having with her companions, with the Exarch specifically. How many of her friends were telling her to stop, that she may push herself to the brink of death as well, and how they did not wish for that. Only for her to spat back that for once she wished to do something inherently selfish. That this was her need to be selfish, that she wanted Hades to live. Suddenly Hythlodaeus withdrew from Hades, causing the man to suddenly feel pain so great it sucked the air from his lungs. Shocked he looked over at the sullen Elezen. 

“My hot chocolate recipe is hidden under a false board in my office desk.” Hythlodaeus raised to point at his face. “This ones, my fragments office. It will bring her joy, learn to make it for her. She often burns her hands when dealing with hot drinks. But is a wonderful cook, and she can sew.” He smiled solemnly. “Return to her now, with your new found freedom Hades. Be there for her where I cannot.” 

Many questions were left unanswered for Hades as the pain caused his hand to drop just enough to touch the thread. Gasping, he turned his head to look at is as it wound itself around him, through the wound in his chest, around his throat, creating binds around his wrists. It was not a stifling imprisonment but one where he could feel the warmth of another being. He heard a gentle laugh as his world once again fell into light. Hades left Hythlodaes in that unending place and was forcibly thrown back into his body, choking as air refilled his lungs. 

Writhing and shivering he felt burning in his chest, and saw a weary smile spreading across the Viera’s face. “Aye, welcome back Hades.” Her tired voice reached his ears as he lifted his hand to hold hers that was still on his chest.

“By the twelve she did it.” Came a shocked male voice from beside them. The white haired one, that Lahabrea had possessed, was close by. It caused Hades to roll his eyes, still coughing, he felt something pass his lips and he groaned, everything hurt.

Shifting he felt her free her hand from his grasp to wipe away whatever was on his lips. Then leaning forward she pressed her forehead against his. He felt uncomfortable with her so close to him even though moments ago he was trying his damnedest to kill her. 

“Yes, you brought him back wonderful. Are you going to carry the Ascian back too?” It was the Miqo’te woman, her frustration was palpable, and understandable. Hades sighed and glared at her with as much malice as he could muster, which in his tired state was less than he hoped for. It was not her anger towards him, but what was directed towards the Hero. 

Then, shifting he struggled to sit up, his hand going to where the hole had been. Only to find an oozing blue scar. “Huh,” His voice, parched and strained came from his lips. It almost felt foreign, his body was so light despite being in such pain. Hades’s fingers glided across the sticky substance, which he realized was aether. Her aether. She had used so much as to infuse this body of his with enough to create new flesh. He turned, to a worried expression, she hovered near him, her disheveled white hair and blood splattered form looked at him as he took stock of himself. When she realized he was gazing at her she gave him a strained smile, as if she was regretting her choice. “Quite selfish, bringing me back.” He teased wiping the aether covered hand on his ruined cloak. “I guess I am in your debt though, hero.” Hades sighed and there was a scoff from beside them.

“Pray tell Ascian, how could you be in debt to our foolish friend?” Thancred, yes that was his name. Hades turned to stare at him with venom. They were right to be mad at her of course, Hades understood this; he was a liability, for all they could know he still had the same plans. He did not of course. His eyes could see the aether that tied the two of them together. Their very souls intermingling in a very intimate dance that cause Hades to try to avoid looking at her. Instead he looked at his accuser.

“Yes, pray tell, she only brought me back and freed me from Zodiarks grasp.” Hades shrugged, wincing at the movement bringing his hand back to his chest; only to find her hand pressed firmly to the oozing wound. His hand met hers and the glow of their souls nearly blinded him. Hades could not remember the last time his eyes betrayed him so. There was silence around them as she wrapped her free arm around his back encouraging him to stand. Hades allowed her to do so standing on unstead feet to face the scions, and the Exarch. Those he had tried to kill, but felt no more enmity for. They were broken of course that still disterbed him, but with the words of Hythlodaeus ringing in his mind he pushed his distaste away, as there was no need for it any longer. 

“Explain thyself, Ascian. By what form dost thou claim liberation from thy dark master?” An Elezen took a step forward, Hades struggled to put a name to the face. He knew that this one held a lot of secrets, but he kept seeing the Elezen face of Hythlodaes overlapping with this man’s own.

Hades rolled his eyes and shifted to lean heavily into the Viera beside him. “The chains of temperament are no more. I care not what happens to these worlds, my plan is in shambles and I feel nothing about it.” He let his head fall onto Swaths shoulder, it was partly because he was feeling exhausted from being brought back from death and the constant pain he was in; and another part because he craved the touch of the woman. Which he partially blamed on his conversation with Hythlodaeus bringing back emotions that had been long hindered by the chains. This thought caused him to frown for a moment, perhaps it was just because he was not being manipulated any longer. His body sagged a little more and he felt her hands easily hold him up. Letting his eyes dart back to the Scions he found them regarding him carefully. 

“Your, aether, is a little different.” The Miqo’te woman muttered to herself. Her blind eyes staring at him with intent. Hades’s frown grew, it felt as if she was looking through him. Lifting his head he tried to stand as straight as he could, but found that the pain kept him in his familiar slouch. 

“Its, like, how with Swath, her soul was breaking but now its not; his was all wrapped up in something and now its just, its like its being held together.” The little girl, Ryne, caught Hades attention. He winced, she was perceptive, perhaps too much so. 

“Yes, you are right Ryne.” The woman’s cat ears perked up as she walked around Hades and his Hero. “Nevertheless, even though there is this evidence and your words, we shall not take our eyes off you. Swath, realize that you said yourself, your selfish action was to bring Emet-Selch back from death. He is your responsibility now.” She stopped in front of them, putting her hands on her hips and staring at the Viera with an expression that Hades could only see as ‘motherly frustration’. 

“I’h know Y’shtola.” Swath muttered, her hands twitching from where they held him. Hades’s eyes darted to the side to see her wincing. No, it was not regret she was clearly feeling, it was concern. Was it concern for him? Hades felt a pang of his own frustration towards the Viera woman. She truly should have let him die; even though he was grateful he did not think his life was worth the stress she would be under. 

But then again, he could not think of a time during her adventure when she was not put under some form of stress by others. If this was truly her stress why would he dare deny her such a thing? Shifting he saw the woman, Y’shtola sigh and move to look around the area in which they still stood. The Exarch, being aided by Thancred was also clearly in pain; and angry. Hades knew in which both were directed towards; him. Hades gazed at the red haired man, he had inflicted atrocities upon him in the name of his plan. He sighed heavily, letting his head fall. 

“Hades?” Swaths voice brought him back and he looked up at her with a smile that surprised both of them. 

“Yes, hero?” He asked, shifting in her grasp to better gaze at her wounded face. Her war paint was smudged, sometime during their fight she had also lost the eye patch that covered her right eye, which he could only guess was blind as it was white. Hades realized with steady horror that while he knew her soul and her motives he knew nothing of the woman herself. He did not know about the stories behind her scars, or her childhood. He knew nothing of this incarnation of his beloved. Yet, here he was falling in love with her.

Yes, he admitted to himself, he was falling in love with the Warrior of Light. 

“Are yeh alright ta walk back? I’h cannot, carry yeh.” She sighed and gave him a weary smile once again. “Yeh put up a fight yeh know, took everythin I had.” 

He gave a strained laugh. “Shall we lean against each other he-” Hades paused, correcting himself, “Swath, shall we lean against each other Swath.” Around him the silence was thick with disbelief. He looked over at the Scions, their faces scrunched with confusion and then the Exarch whose face was one of pure shock. Hades felt his lips twitch. “Yes, I too can call her by her name, am I forbidden from doing such?”

“I think you should be.” The Exarch sighed and then shrugged. “But who knows, perhaps you truly are freed from the darkness that held you.” He looked away towards the ruined buildings that Hades had created, the arena in which he and Swath fought. “And, as I am loathe to admit, we do need your help. Which way do we leave this place?” 

Hades followed the Exarch’s gaze, shifting nervously. “In truth, originally I meant this as a graveyard for all of you. I assume you realize this,” He paused and felt her pull him closer to her side. Hades planted his feet firmer on the ground as he felt Swath wobble a little bit. “I was to remain here until the rejoining happened for this shard, then flee to the shadows.” He frowned, looking at the skeletons of the phantom home he had created. “I can see about willing forth a portal of such, but I know naught of my own strength. Nor the effect Swath’s aether will have upon me - there is also the problem of being free of temperament.” Raising a hand Hades rubbed his chin, loathe to feel stubble upon it. The group looked at him with expectation, and he sighed. Resigned to his fate Hades raised his hand and willed the magic from deep within his body, but only finding pain. It was minuscule at first, a prick, so he willed a little more. Focused on the darkness, to bring for a shadow portal. Then it erupted; gasping he found his strength stolen from him. Aether welled up in his throat and he shook violently, his knees giving out. Swath gave a shout of surprise as he went down. 

His whole body heaved as he threw up copious amounts of aether. Hades felt Swaths hands on his back and the hurried footsteps of the Scions. His body shook and he choked as he threw up more, his eyes wide as he stared at the physical aether on the floor before him. After a moment he managed to take a deep breath pushing himself unsteadily back on in a kneeling position his body drenched with sweat. “Well,” He rasped. “I will not be trying that again any time soon.” 

“Perhaps not,” Y’shtola muttered kneeling and carefully examining the aether. “This seems to be the aether we attacked you with, not the abundant amounts that Swath infused within you to bring you back. It is very possible that our attack has disrupted your magic.” She stood and tapped her chin. “We clearly cannot rely on your abilities. We may have to attempt to return to the beginning.”

Swaths hands wrapped around Hades and helped him stand, he leaned more into her than he did before. Sighing and coughing, he nodded. “Perhaps, that would be preferable to me having to expel whatever is ailing me.” His voice was thick and slurred. He felt terrible, even more so, the pain which he had grown accustomed too was back one hundred fold. Hades now even wished that he had not gone at Swath with so much fervor so that she could carry him. 

“I think you deserve the pain.” Thancred muttered. Hades raised his eyebrows at the man, who stared at him with contentment. 

“Yes, while that is understandable, may I remind you that I clearly cannot possess bodies nor do I wish too. I have said this before, but I loathe Lahabrea’s choices. You need not put such ill will towards me at this very moment,” Hades mumbled back, causing Thancred to stare at him with disbelief. “There will be plenty of time for disdain for each other much later.” 

“Oh, trust me, I shall regard you with plenty of contempt.” Thancred waved his hand and helped the Exarch to the area where they came into. 

Hades eyes could see the exit; perhaps it was too faint for the aether seeing woman. He nudged Swath who looked down at him concerned, he gave her a tight lipped smile and mentioned to where the others where going. Together, they moved forward towards the edge of the area. When they got there they found Y’shtola tilting her head back and forth, clearly squinting at the faint traces of aether. It was remnants of his old tainted aether as well. Though the pain was still great Hades lifted his hand, earning a gasp from Swath. Her hand grabbing his.

“I will be fine,” He reiterated. “I will not push myself to the point of heaving again.” She was tense beside him as Hades closed his eyes, pushing himself towards the tainted aether. It rebelled against him, and he began to feel pain so he released it. His breaths coming quick, he found Ryne and Swath both watching him carefully. “The path is rejecting me.” 

“Why?” Ryne asked stepping forward her hand hovering over the still oozing wound. Hades looked down at the girl with a feeling of surprising fondness. She truly was just a child that had been thrown into a world that she did not understand all because of another soul hiding within her. 

“I assume, it is because of how my soul is being ‘held together’, as you put it child.” Hades reached out and gently patted her head earning a rather startled smile from the little girl. “You, child, are to perceptive for your own good.” She giggled then turned to look at the other adults worrying over how to get the path to open. Hades guessed that Y’shtola had noticed the wisps of residue. 

“Is there nothing you can do Mr. Hades?” Ryne asked, looking up at him. His golden eyes regarded her with a tilt of his head. The tired gears of his mind trying to work towards a solution. He had never been cut off from his magic before, he was of the ‘true’ people. Never, in the history of their kind had one been cut off from either their creation magic, or magic in general. He frowned, looking back towards the gathering, and the slight glow that was his tainted aether.

“Perhaps together?” Swath moved one of her hands to grasp his, bringing Hades out of his thoughts to gaze at the Viera. “Perhaps if we tried together, Hades?” She looked at him with concern, he knew she was adept in magic; he did not know what magic as her weapon of choice as a giant axe. But it was not a bad idea.

“Yes,” He shifted so that their hands where interlocked. “Perhaps if we focused together, mayhaps I could use you as a conduit to properly manipulate the magic and open the pathway.” Hades frowned, and turned so that his chest was pressed against her abdomen, his head near her breasts. The man felt heat rising to grace his ears. The height difference was strange to him. He felt a hand grasp his back and they pointed their clasped hands towards the aether Hades could see. 

There was a clap of hands from Ryne as she called out to the adults. “Hey! Swath and Mr. Hades are going to try something please move!” Thancred turned with a look of confusion at Ryne, but the group dispersed anyways. Ryne too moved away from them to give them room, her smile blinding now. 

“Alright, anytime yah want to Hades. Use me as yah will.” He could not see her face, but he could hear the smile. She was enjoying herself; he was her selfish choice. Perhaps she regretted it, perhaps not, but at the moment he swore he would be useful to her. 

Closing his eyes he focused on the woman before him. He could feel her aether, warm, powerful, suffocating as it flowed over him. Faint licks of her emotions grazed him, anger, at his speech, sorrow, for the loss of the spirit Ardbert, joy at the fact that he was standing with her. Hades focused on their hands, conjoined. The welling of his own aether, so closely tangled with hers. He focused on the threads that connected him to her, using them as a pathway for his magics. Hades heard her gasp, stronger emotion washing over him. Which he chose to ignore as he built up his power. It was starting to cause him pain again, he coughed a bit, feeling more aether come from his lips. But he ignored it, ignored the small voice of Ryne asking if he was alright, to focus on the gate. 

There! 

His eyes shot open and he turned his head quickly to the area their clasped hands pointed. Suddenly a shudder of aether appeared in the spot, ripping open a portal showing the burning Amaurot. Hades pushed away from Swath, hearing her call of surprise again, chose to ignore it. His hands raised he pushed more aether into the portal; he would bypass the final days, he would be useful to her. Pain violently ripped through him, but he still was connected to Swath so it did little to phase him. Sure, it hurt and normally would have brought him to his knees, but it was as if she still had her hands on his back: and of course he realized she did. She clearly did not like this choice of his, but was supporting him. Hades laughed to himself, aether coming from his lips and wound as the portal shimmered and warped. Then, suddenly, it showed the halls that had been the entrance to the entire ordeal. He focused, grounding their combined aether there. Then, he pulled back and let himself fall back into her arms.

“That should do it.” He waved his hand nonchalantly. His breaths coming quick, and thick with fluid. “We must hurry before the grounding I placed dissipates. I do not know how long it will remain.” 

The Scions needed no other encouragement. They turned and quickly moved towards the portal; it was clear to Hades now that they too had their hurts. After the Elezen went through with the Exarch leaving Thancred, Ryne, Swath and Hades himself remaining he felt the small hands of the girl on his side. Then Thancred swiftly came to Swaths side.

“Alright, let’s get you two through.” Thancred muttered ushering them towards the portal. 

“Ah, and here I thought you greatly disliked me.” Hades teased gently, leaning into Swath for support. As she too did the same.

Thancred rolled his eyes. “Swath would never leave you, thus the most appropriate choice would be to assist you.” 

Hades sighed, knowing that the white haired man was right. The Warrior of Light would not leave him; he was bound to her. As the portal approached he frowned, what sort of life would this be for him? What was in store for him now that he was free from Zodiark? 

And most importantly, could he hold up the promise he made to his dearly departed friend?


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades managed to open a portal that allowed the Scions and the Wol to escape the battle Area, but now they must leave Amaurot, Hades is struggling with the fact that he seems cut off from his magic - and dreading the consequences.

As they entered the portal Hades felt an ache deep within his chest. It was his current aether, pure and bound, intermingling with his old aether. The collusion caused air to be torn from his lungs his golden eyes widening with the surprise of the event. Never in his existence since the sundering, has a portal he created rejected him so. His body sagged under the weight of the unexpected burden, but the firm hands that gripped his sides guided him through the portal with unanticipated ease. As they came into the golden hallways of the capitol building he felt air rush back through his lips. Feeling relief he slouched forward coughing again, flecks of aether hitting the floor. As he caught his breath Hades felt the small hands of Ryne patting his back, and Swath’s released him to slump to the floor with a heavy sigh of exhaustion. Hades, still bent turned his gaze to the clearly worn Viera, she had clearly crumpled to the ground without grace nor care about her position; she just did not want to be standing.

Hades frowned, lifting his hand to wipe his lips, shifting looking at the binds that connected the two of them. Binds that only he could see clearly. They were still blinding, but her soul was dimmer as if her continued pushing her limits was affecting the very core of her soul. He suspected that this actually happened to her often, but never in the company of her companions. Swath was clearly trying to play it off by rolling her shoulders and stretching. Unnecessary movements to distract herself and Thancred from her true fatigue. 

“Tired?” Thancred asked her, Hades, still in pain gently patted Rynes hand and shifted to sit down as well, next to the Viera. She nodded, leaning back on her hands her axe, which was tied to her back clanked unceremoniously on the floor. Settling down beside her Hades kept his attention solely on the Hero, could he inquire about her exhaustion without letting her know that he had more answers than he cared to give? For the moment, despite his promise to Hythlodaeus, he wished to keep some playing cards to himself. In case it was needed, against what he was not sure. Perhaps against Elidibus, the only true Ascian remaining tied to Zodiark. While his face was still Hades internally frowned. There was still a lot of enmity and danger directed towards Swath, and he knew that he was ill equipped to protect her. His past self, the one that originally walked the halls they sat in could easily have transformed into his altered mage form to protect her with ease. 

The him right now was as useless as a newborn mortal child. 

Looking away from Swath he heard her chatting with Thancred, he did not care about what. Instead he found his gaze shifting towards the makeshift portal that he had torn open. It viciously shook as his golden sight fell upon it, and then vanished. Hades frowned at the spectacle that had been lost to his unwitting companions. As the last of the tainted aether shimmered out of existence a prick of pain radiated from his wound. His hands reached up to touch the wound on his chest, glowing, and bleeding again. Grazing his gloved hand over it he brought it to his face to gaze at it. The glow of the aether was as dim as her soul, its color was still brilliantly blue, but was off to him. Clenching his hand he bit his lip, unsure of what it meant. His mind was too tired to properly problem solve. It could be because Swath was honestly spent from their battle and the act of pulling his soul back from the Underworld. It could have completely different indications. Perhaps ramifications of freeing him from Zodiark? Disdain from the Primal that exerted a certain amount of will over her. Hades gnawed his lip at the thought, pushing it from his mind quickly. He would settle for her being tired, without overthinking the problem for the moment. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Thancred pat the woman, “Rest then, I will go talk to the others about finding a way back to the surface.” Ryne hopped up, Hades had almost forgotten about her, and Thancred waved at her indicating her to remain sitting. “Stay with Swath and,” The white haired man paused staring at Hades who raised his eyebrows at him curiously. Thancreds eyes looked back at Swath, Hades’ eyes followed his gaze. The woman looked at Thancred with expectation. Concerned but curious Hades looked back at Thancred disgruntled face. He groaned before speaking, “Hades.” Thancred spat his true name like a curse and turned on his heel to march over to the others without a second word. To the twins who were speaking in animated gestures towards each other and the other Scions. Hades peeked at Swath out of the corner of his eyes to see her smiling with satisfaction. He huffed and shifted his position, so their conversation had been her convincing Thancred to use his name, not his title. The Hero clearly could not cleanse the disdain that the man appropriately had for him, but her words had reached him somewhat. 

Hades felt a measure of pride for her actions. She was so very strong willed; and he couldn’t help but wonder if instead of he standing beside her, it would be she standing beside him in his darkest moments. Although, the thought flitted across his mind, was that not what she was already doing?

Ryne plopped down in front of Swath and Hades, smiling, taking the man from his thoughts. “That was amazing Mr. Hades!” Pulling her knees to her chest she tilted her head at him and he gave a pained smile in response to her praise. He had done nothing to be appreciated. All he had done was remove them the graveyard he created for them to the one he had fashioned for himself. “Although, did he really use you as a conduit Swath?” This question took him by surprise, as she looked at the Viera for answers. Swath shrugged, moving to more appropriately sit beside Hades and in front of Ryne. Hades noted that while she advanced with a normal speed, her movements were clumsy. Her hands slipping and her legs bumping the floor until she settled. 

Once again he kept his face straight, it was clear to him she did not with the others to know. Thus he would not indicate that he could see her struggling.

“I’h felt somethin, but I dunno, he pulled away from me remember?” Her eyes turned to watch him carefully, inspecting him. He looked away from her, to Ryne who also regarded him curiously, and then to look at the ruined cloak that still adorned his frame. How it had begun to fray and rip more. With a disgruntled sigh Hades leaned forward to rub his head in frustration at the question when he realized he still wore his rather sharp, taloned glove. With a quick shake of his head yanked it off throwing it to the side. The clank as it hit the gilded floor caused the other Scions to look up from their conversation. But Hades just waved his hand at them, disregarding their reactions further.

“I did,” He finally said, now able to rub his forehead uninhibited by the sharp metal of the glove. “It was an unexpectedly easy task,” Hades muttered moving to scrub his lips cleaning them of the aether that he had coughed up earlier. “It allowed me a glimpse into what I believe is binding me to this bro-” He clicked his tongue and stopped speaking, cursing old habits and lingering negative emotions. Before taking a breath and continuing, “binding me to the living.” Hades clearly was avoiding speaking about the shards as a whole. He was not ready to accept certain failures quite yet. Hades knew that he would need to, to move forward in this new life, but for the moment he was content allowing it to fester. The chains may be gone, but emotions clearly lingered. 

“What is it?” Ryne leaned forward, Hades watched as her eyes darted from his face to look at his wound, which his fingers where grazing as if searching for the hole that should be there. Every time he touched it it stung, but he knew it was no ordinary wound. It would not cause rot or infection. It was of pure aether, her aether, trying to reconstruct his form. He observe Ryne’s movements, clearly suspicious about the glowing wound on his chest. Hades shrugged and let his hand drop to his lap before raising it and waving it at the Viera which sat close to them. 

“Clearly, the conduit that is solidifying my presence here is Swath herself.” The man looked at her, her ears where back and a faint blush decorated her bruised cheeks. Hades’s eyebrows shot up with surprise at her reaction, as he felt a blush creep up his neck. It was as if she did not expect him to call her out so quickly. The blush also caught him off guard; he had also not expected his words to elicit such an emotion from her. He watched as the thread that connected them flared, her soul burning ever slightly brighter. Clearing his throat he looked away, trying to keep the fact that he had such a profound effect on her very soul to himself. “She bound me with her aether, and thus I assume she also had a hand in breaking the bonds of Zodiark.” Hades continued with a steady voice even though he himself felt a little flushed. The bright blue glow of her soul a tempting distraction. 

Disgruntled he brought his ungloved hand to his chin and scrubbed at it - at the stubble he found. It was rough on his hand and reminded him that, usually, when he possessed a body later in their life and molded it to the form of his liking he did not have to deal with the many bodily functions that came with existing. The appearance of the stubble could be because he was effectively cut off from his magics. Pulling his hand away from his face it occurred to him that he did not have access to his regular magics. The ones that allowed him to take the form of a mage - but perhaps he could still create. Watching his hand he stared at his fingertips focusing, willing an image from his mind to his hand. A vision of a gentle butterfly, golden wings like Swaths good eye, and a white body such as her hair. He felt the warmth of the magic spread across his body, but at the same time he cursed himself for letting the Viera so easily affect his creation. After a moment the butterfly began to take shape on his hand, spreading its wings readying for flight.

There was a small gasp from Ryne, who sat in front of him. He could see her leaning forward her eyes wide with a child’s wonder, then there was a small intake of air behind him. A hand, clothed in rough armor heavily hit his shoulder, the sudden touch from Swath caused Hades’ concentration to disperse and the man watched in horror as the butterfly on his hand dissipated. Creation magic was not supposed to break so easily. “Damn it.” He grumbled, dropping his hand and slamming it harshly against the ground. The frustration that bubbled deep within his chest was hard for him to control. He hated being separated from his magics, it was unnatural, and it caused him great distress. 

“Was tha creation magic?” Swath asked from beside him, her voice bringing him back and serving as a grounding agent for Hades. Turning to look at her he sighed, his shoulders shrugging as he did so.

“It was supposed to be.” He muttered, still displeased with himself. In the miserable state he was in he was beyond useless, again, equivalent to a newborn mortal child. “It is not supposed to vanish so once I lose my focus.” Hades shifted on the hard floor, groaning and clutching his chest. The sudden movement causing the wound to throb, strange crusty bits flaking off as he regarded it. Was it trying to heal? Lifting his hand he once again was going to touch the wound. Hades was then distracted by hand that was still on his shoulder moving to grazed down his back to his hip, Swath suddenly pulled him close to her. He grunted in discomfort and quickly turned to gaze at her. Hades was about to protest when he saw her eyes where on his wound. The intensity of her stare silenced him, and he could only watch as her other hand moved to grasp his arm pulling it away from his chest. “Hero,” Hades his voice was flavored with warning as she lifted her hand without a care to press it firmly against his chest. Pain erupted from her touch and he buckled forward as much as her hands allowed. Cursing, “By your twelve woman!” Air hissed from his lungs as she shifted her hand and pulled back suddenly clearly satisfied. A small huff coming from her larger frame as Hades writhed trying to become accustomed to the pain once again.

“Its solid,” She said with a blinding smile. 

“I would sure hope it was!” He spat at her. Shifting Hades turned to look at her face his anger dissipating instantly once graced with the happy expression that decorated her face. Clicking his tongue, trying to keep a burst of embarrassment under control he looked towards the scions which still chatted away, oblivious to the trios interactions. Raising a hand he coughed into it, dull throbbing accompanied the movement. He knew it was a ramification of her sudden action towards him. Once again he removed the aether that leaked from his lips, growing irritated with having to continually repeat the action. Turning to her once he had gathered himself he asked, “Why, pray tell, did you do that?”

“I’h wanted to make sure that mah aether wouldn’t just, vanish.” Swath muttered beside him. He watched as her sd she looked down at her hands, the one she had touched him with covered in the blue substance. Her face was sullen, concerned, troubled. As Hades regarded her a thought dancing across his mind, bringing a realization to him.

“Good, I knew she would not allow someone to die so similarly to I.” 

Swath had done the action out of panic, perhaps as she had watched the butterfly vanish her fears of he too dissipating in motes of light overtook her judgement. Hades turned away and gazed at his hand, how troubled was this Hero? How much of her suffered because of the actions of others? He was truly the most selfish thing she had ever done in her life. Hades closed his hand and let it settle into his lap before turning his gaze upward. 

“Ah,” He spoke softly, as if was regarding a crying child. “You wanted to make sure I would not die on you, is that correct?” The pause between them was heavy, even causing Ryne to turn away in an attempt to give them some form of privacy. 

“Yeah.” She mumbled behind him, the rustling of fabric and chain mail accompanying her response. Swath seized his free hand into an intense grasp. Hades tilted his head to gaze at their hands, moving so that he could interlock his fingers with hers. It was a simple gesture, he understood this, and one he would usually not think of to do. He may in past lives, been a romantic, finding pleasure in wooing women and men alike but here he floundered as if he was falling in love for the first time all over again. In his mind that made sense, beside him was an eight times rejoined version of his beloved. Swath acted so much like her whole self it threw the golden eyed man for a loop. He felt young, he felt angry, he felt confused; he felt free. Shutting his eyes for a moment he gathered himself before he looked at her briefly giving her an unsure smile before speaking. 

“I, truthfully, Hero, do not think I am able to leave this plain of existence without your say.” His golden eyes returned to stare at their hands instead of her face. Hades took note that her skin was common for a Rava Viera, a bluish tint, one that remind him of a fresh evening sky. Making the small scars flecked her skin the stars. Hades squeezed her hand trying to reassure her, he did not know if the feelings went properly through before turning to look at the group of Scions, whose conversation was increasing volume. “Hm, I do not believe they know the best way out of here.” Hades’ tone was nonchalant, he honestly figured that they would just retrace the steps that the group had originally took to come down to the phantom Amaurot. Of course, he had originally also assumed that this place was to be a graveyard for them. 

“Without swimming.” Ryne said with a strained laugh. Hades raised his eyebrows as he found the girl shifting to look at him with hopeful expectation. Did she truly hope that he had another trick up his sleeve? Alas, he did not, his energy had been spent on bypassing the recreation he had so carefully crafted. Shaking his head he gave her a weary smile. 

“I am sorry child, I do not have it in me to summon another portal as I did. If I do I fear that I will be reduced to expelling aether from my body once more.” Hades felt his brows turn down into a sorrowful expression with his response. Ryne sighed mournfully and Swaths hand tightened around his own. Hades realized that his words may have once again struck a chord within the Hero. He gathered himself, prepared to attempt to comfort her. He finally turned to look at her face expecting her eyes to be gazing at him with fear; instead he found that she was not looking to him but toward the open entrance. A frown danced across Hades’ face as he tried to decipher her expression before giving up and turning to look for himself. There in the doorway was a phantom.

It lingered as if it had a will of its own, which was impossible. Hades could not have given any of their souls back, if he could have at the time of the creation of this place he would have. But it loitered none the less, its expressionless face staring at him. He shifted, it seemed familiar. Had he have given this phantom a name? Perhaps it was the pain, but he was beginning to have trouble remembering the events that had led up to the final fight.

It moved awkwardly, taking a step forward, like a puppet with broken strings. Hades stomach dropped, it should not be able to come into the Capitol building. Behind him he could feel Swath tense up, moving to grab hold of Ryne and pull the small oracle behind them. Even though he could not completely see her actions he felt her through their entwined hands try to pull him behind her as well. Instead he, huffed releasing his grasp and struggled to stand. He would not be babied, he may be exhausted and wounded but he would not fear the own phantoms he had created. As he stood he heard her, muttering, her voice growing louder. 

“Hades -” Swaths concerned tone echoed through the building, the Scions had stopped conversing the minute they heard her speak. He ignored her fear, this was his creation, if he had miscalculated something he must attempt to remedy it. Even in his present condition he was apprehensive that the whole of the phantom Amaurot would vanish beneath their feet. The butterfly was vividly clear in his mind, especially the way it had vaporized. Hades knew that his powers were weakened, as he had mentioned earlier he could not properly calculate the effects the events had upon his form, and his magic. He stood finally, unsteady, one hand on his wound he began to walk towards the approaching phantom. “Hades!” Swath called out again, but he just waved her off.

It was okay, he tried to convey the emotion through is hand. Once again he did not know if the feelings properly went through but she was not jumping up to stop his advancement towards the phantom. As Hades walked he found his body barely heeded his orders. It was sluggish, sore, and unfamiliar to him. The walk was painful without someone supporting him, he could feel all the eyes of his new companions on him as he strode across the golden floors. Soon enough he stood in front of the phantom, which kneeled down and reached out to him. Its hands stopping inches away from his face. Hades felt no fear to the situation he was now in. The ghosts of the past where harmless to him, as he stood before it he found its hand hesitantly touching him. Its masked face blank, it had no facial features after all. 

“Honored Emet-Selch,” The phantom spoke finally. The words wholly familiar to him, but the movements of the phantom where foreign. He had imbued them memories of the final day before the world crashed down around them. They should not have any reason to enter the Capitol building. “Honored Emet-Selch,” The phantom repeated, clearly expecting him to answer. Hades rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet before taking a deep breath.

He cleared his throat, trying to rid it of the aether like fluid that still clung to it. “Yes?” He asked, in all honestly loathing hearing the title come from the phantom. Hades was starting to grow accustomed to hearing his true name again, and being called by it. In fact he was beginning to prefer it over the title which he had worn for eons. Nevertheless, he waited for the phantom to answer his query. 

“Honored Emet-Selch,” The phantom said again, causing Hades to frown. It should have responded to him with a question, or something similar. Was his creation truly beginning to fade? His eyes widened, panic rose like bile in his chest. He took a step back from the phantom, frantically looking around. What he noticed asserted his fears; the gold was faded, cracking like worn paint. He turned towards the doors that lead to the final days reflection that he had created, the doors where starting to fall apart as well. In fact he could hear it; the sound of snapping and shifting. Hades could not be sure if it was just the building they stood in, perhaps it had been negatively affected by his forceful portal creation. Or maybe it was his weakened form that had given way to something disastrous, the change of his aether, the removal of his tainted aether to the ghost of a city. 

“By Zodiark,” He hissed, he knew he did not have the strength to keep the creation stable. Creation magic was suppose to be the most powerful and concrete of the magics, once something had been willed into existence it should stand until destroyed by outside forces. It should not be affected by the events that happened to its creator. But it was the only reason that Hades could think of. As he turned and took stock of the room he heard the phantom repeating its previous phrase. Hades rolled his eyes and turned his body to hobble back towards Swath and Ryne who where now standing. He saw Swath holding her axe, studying the phantom until she noticed Hades’ turn towards them. Hades watched as her eyes grew wide, a clear reaction to the panicked expression that was gracing his face. 

“There was no one else that fit the position.” The phantom spoke. 

Hades paused his crippled advancement back to his Hero for a moment and turned slightly. The phantom was of Hythlodaeus, but he thought that when creating him he gave him some understanding of the situation. Hades had only realized far after creating him of course, that he had some self awareness. His golden eyes carefully studied the phantom, its hand was still outstretched, its blank face following his movements. By the very magic that put him in this situation he struggled to remember; had Hythlodaeus visited the Capitol building the day before everything came crashing down on them? His face paled as the memory came gently back to him. 

Hythlodaeus had come to speak to Hades about his plans to propose to Swath’s whole form. It had originally been planned for the day of the catastrophe. His friend had the utmost trust in Hades, in finding a solution before time was up. Hades never had the chance to ask her - and Hytlodaeus had not survived the calamity. Turning away from the phantom and the memory Hades cursed again. Willing his uncooperative body to move faster, the hallway was long and arduous but when he finally stood in front of Swath he reached out with his free hand and grabbed her arm. The Viera was still gazed at the phantom, as if it would break into a sprint after Hades. She still had her axe in her hand as he pulled her with as much force as his weak body could muster. 

“We must away Hero,” Hades said with as much urgency as he could muster, pulling on her arm again. She sheathed her weapon without as much as a question, which caused relief to flood Hades. She, despite the circumstances, trusted his judgement. He watched as she turned on her heel easily lifting small Ryne into her arms. The golden eyed man could only assume that it was adrenaline that allowed Swath to bypass her extreme exhaustion. Moving back to look at him she shifted Ryne so that she held the oracle with one arm and with her free one moved the grasp Hades had on her arm, so that their hands held one another. Then, she moved quicker than he found he could keep up with. Clearly even though he groaned in protest he did not have a choice as she was undeterred by his continued tripping, only moving to release his hand and wrap her arm around his side to keep him steady. Together they came to the Scions who frowned, they had been too far away to hear Hades’ conversation with the phantom, nor his urgent words to Swath. He heaved, gulping air as the three of them came to stop in front of the Scions. Swath set Ryne down who trotted to Thancreds side, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. 

“Pray tell, Emet-Selch what is happening?” The male of the Elezen twins asked his arms crossed. The other Scions where regarding him in much of the same manner, only paying attention to Swath who stood at attention her arm wrapped around his side to keep him steady. They expected her to speak as he was trying to control his breathing.

When she did not, their attention finally rested on him. Rolling his eyes he moved so that one hand wrapped around Swaths waist so that he could continue to stand unhindered by his shaking legs, then he freed the hand that had been clasped to his chest. His hand was drenched in the blue ichor that still oozed from the wound. Hades waved it at the walls, still panting he tried to find the air to speak. A gentle pat on his side told him to take his time that either he would tell them, or they would see it. 

Either way, the pat told him, she would keep him safe. 

A brief frown crossed his face, he still did not want to be babied; but at the moment his protest seemed to be something that he should not concern himself with. Mentioning to the walls again he took a deep steadying breath. “My creation boy,” He began with a frown now deepening across his brow. “It is failing, the fabric of magic I weaved to create this place is being torn asunder by something I cannot, nor have the strength to mend.” As he spoke the words he felt a pang of painful sorrow. In a cruel twist of fate he was losing his home again. Of course it was a shell of what the true Amaurot had been, but the pain was there regardless. He shook his head when the Elezen boy turned to examine the walls. “You do not have time to regard the symptoms of what ails the magics. If we are not light on our feet the whole of the building is likely to collapse on top of us.” He let his hand fall with a heavy breath. “While created by my will, this place is physical for the moment. It will bury us.” Hades voice was even; he did not fear death. He had been there perhaps only an hour before. He also knew that Swath did not fear death either; the way she had stared straight into his eyes during their battle had told him so. The younger of the Scions though, where a different question. While glaring at him the tender Elezen mentioned to the others that they had to leave. There was some praddle that the man ignored, leaning heavily into Swath his ears picking up instead a different voice. 

“I am glad it is you.” The soft voice of Hythlodaeus’ phantom reached his ears causing him to twist in the Hero’s grasp, pain bursting through his torso at the sudden violent movement. The ghost of his friend was standing, and fading. It like the rest of his creation was dissipating like the butterfly. Hades could have sworn before it disappeared completely that he saw a smile where there should not be one. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the now vacant spot by the entrance. 

Had the fragmented spirit of his old friend crossed the barrier to warn him? Looking down and away from the spot he noticed cracks now beginning to form in the floor. Then as the Scions finished their preparations to move the soft rumble of the building began to crescendo. Announcing that it was going to collapse. Wincing, Hades turned to look at Swath, she had been speaking, not to him of course but to the others. The Viera clearly wanted them to go ahead, which he could tell they accepted reluctantly. Perhaps they had theorized that if Hades was in the building the magics would remain just enough to allow them to escape. He chuckled to himself, reaching up and pressing a hand back on the wound. It was a fools dream, he had no more control over the magics that ruled over the phantom city. The laws could not be bent by his feeble power. 

“Hades,” Her voice brought him back to the present. The din of the building crumbling around them did not drown her out for him. Turning he looked at the Hero with curious eyes.

“Yes Hero?” He asked, trying to read her face but finding it a near impossible task. Her eyes were darting around, searching for enemies where there were none. Her hands had seized his shoulders, pulling him close to her chest, with a grunt he found himself buried in her form. Was she hugging him? 

“I’h ask that yah bear with what I’m bout ta do.” She muttered pulling him away and then bending down. Hades had no ability to protest, as he felt her arms on the back of his knees and shoulders. In one fell swoop she knocked him from his standing position and stood with him in a bridal carry. Golden eyes wide the man found himself being carried by the woman as she sprinted out of the Capitol building. Through heavy breaths she grinned. “I’h found tha strength tah carry yah after all.” He could not see her face well, but he could hear the smile. She shifted so that he was closer to her chest and Hades moved his arms in front of him so that she could grip him tighter. 

They exited the building and what Hades saw crushed his already broken heart. The phantoms meandered about without any more direction, somewhere already fading away. Buildings had begun to grey and crack, some falling into the abyss below them. Swath stopped at the steps, frantically looking about, her head movements ripping Hades from is melancholy to look at her. Why was she panicking so? The thought only crossed his mind for a moment before he saw the reason; the road they needed to take was already collapsed. By some miracle it looked like her companions had already crossed that area. Hades winced as her hands tightened around him further.

“I’h refuse ta let it end here.” She hissed as she began to take the steps two at a time. Hades opened his mouth to speak but she took a sharp right and began to run down an alley. This was also when the two of them began to feel rain. Swath paused as it began to pour, looking up and cursing. “By tha twelve, tha fairies magic is also failing.” She looked back down at Hades, who had been content to remain quietly in her arms as she tried to figure out a way for them to survive. He knew that in his position it was the best to do, until now that is. 

“Put me down Swath,” Hades said firmly, but she shook her head.

“Nay, yah will do somethin stupid.” The Viera’s ears flattened on her head, her stare heated. Feeling frustrated, Hades lifted his blue encrusted hand and smacked her chest with little force.

“Yes, I will but it will save you -” 

“It has ta save yah too!” She interrupted clinging to his body. “I’h wont let yah die Hades. Not here, nah ever, as long as I’h stand so will you.” Hades golden eyes widened as he, through the downpour saw that she was crying. He knew, and understood that she wanted him to live, but he could not fathom why. After everything he did, surely she would discard him easily? It was the most logical conclusion after all. 

He groaned and pushed at her shoulder again. “Why must you act so childish? Can you not see that these broken, nay, these people have deemed you worthy to grant them salvation? You, Swath, must live. I have lived my life as your enemy, I am not one of these people you must save. You must release me!” Hades let the words fall already knowing that if she did as he asked he would be breaking the promise he had made to Hythlodaeus. That once his feet touched the ground he would use every ounce of strength and magic that was left in his shattered form to throw her into a portal back to the Crystal Tower. It mattered not, if he could save her, he would happily face the wrath of his old friend. She did not release him though, even as the water began to cascade down upon them with greater force. Instead she shifted, pressing her forehead once again to his.

“Use me.” She whispered. “Use me as a conduit for yah magic.” Hades’ golden eyes widened and the hand that was on her shoulder balled up into a fist.

“So, this is your choice.” He breathed. “Very well, I will use you then hero. I will use you to live until you grow tired of me.” Hades felt anger, he would happily sacrifice himself for her, but if she wanted him to live he would do that too, although spitefully. Splaying his hand out he easily connected to her through the threads that bound them together.

“Do it,” Swath muttered. “This is mah choice. Others use meh to live, and yah think you will be using meh? Nay, I’h will be using you.” Her head shifted as she pressed her lips against his cheek causing him to tense up. “I’h will use yah as a reason for meh to live. The one I saved.” 

Hades felt the tendrils of aether wrap around him tightly. The water pouring down around them as she held him close. She could not see his gaze, nor could he see her expression, but his eyes stared at her with increasing softness. His chest burned both physically and emotionally, the anger he had felt moments before quickly dissipating with the realization that once again he was falling in love with her. It was a descent he could not stop, nor did he want to. Moving his free hand he cradled her head against his face as he weaved their magic together. He need not use his, her soul was burning so brightly it blinded him. All he had to do was focus on her, on every bit of her. As her emotions of helplessness and sorrow spilled over him he leaned into her drenched hair. It was almost too much for him; he had not realized that what she said had such truth to it. Hades had watched her through her journey and assumed that while there was a lot of take surely her comrades gave back to her as well. The fact that they clearly did not changed his view point. The words of Hythlodaes floated through his mind;

“She is clinging to you,”

“… she has truly grown fond of you,”

“And yet, that is still there for you. Her will to hold your soul, even though hers is broken.”

She rarely had a chance to voice her own desires, to act upon her own dreams. Swath was not just a being chosen to represent the horrible Hydaelyn’s will, she was also the avatar which people put all of their hopes and dreams into. They may thank her, but they still asked far too much of the woman. And yet, she still continued to stride forward in the name of saving the world. Hades closed his eyes, very well, if she needed something to truly live for. Something that she chose with her free will, he would be that for her.

“Then use me, hero.” He inhaled sharply, pressing what little strength he had into the overwhelming spring of her own. Around them the water was pushed back and a bubble was formed. Once the water stopped Swath lifted her head away from him and he turned away to look out at the sea as it reclaimed his creation. The silence between them was surprisingly comfortable. Hades knew that he need naught focus on how to escape; she would do that for them. All he had to do was keep the bubble from bursting. Thus, he turned to mournfully gaze at the city.

Between the failings of his magic and the weight of the water the city was in ruins. The alleyway they were in was barely standing as well. Above him he heard her take in a ragged breath, perhaps in an attempt to not cry, or maybe it was relief, to the fact that he had given into her demands so easily. Looking upward he could gaze at the sunlight filtering through the layers of water, it was faint but he could see and sense the life beyond it surface.

Once again Swath sudden movements caused Hades to snap back to reality; she bent down crouching, then jumped with such force that they shot through the water like a bullet. Hades struggled to keep the bubble around them as they reached the top of a cliff that looked out upon the ruined Amaurot. She paused there, still cradling him. He could only assume that she was giving him time to grieve and take in what little remained. Sighing he looked up at her, finding that she had twisted her face to gaze down at him with a shy smile.

“Hades,” She began, “Yah, yah cannot tell tha others what I’h said -” 

He waved his free hand around, shaking his head in disbelief. “The fact you are entertaining the very thought that I would tell them wounds me.” The Viera laughed and leaned forward to nuzzle his cheek again. Causing him to feel heat raising against his neck. “Yes, yes, now stop that and let us get moving. I cannot hold this pocket forever.” 

Another laugh, “Yah do realize tha I can breath under water right?” Swath said as she turned on her heel to begin walking towards the sea shelf.

Hades frowned, feeling foolish. Of course she had some sort of blessing that allowed her to breath underwater. He hummed thinking of something to say before being interrupted by her.

“I’h am happy, what yah said.” Her voice was low, and Hades had to shift close to hear her. “No one has ever told meh to use ‘em.” Clearly there was more to what she was saying, Hades could feel it but opted to ignore it. He had meant what he said after all, and he cared not how she perceived it. 

“Yes, well, let us escape these dark waters first and then you can be as happy as you want, he-” He sighed, correcting himself again. “Swath,”

The Viera laughed and reached down to press her forehead against his again; causing him to protest once more. 

Perhaps, he thought, this life would not be so bad after-all.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hades and Swath have a heart to heart while he is bombarded with emotions he has not felt in eons.

Hades took in gulps of air as Swath breached the surface. She had walked quite a distance under the water; but keeping up the bubble had begun to drain the two of them. Hades loath to admit that his concentration waned as time had dragged on. To the extent that moments before as the Hero was frantically running to try to get as close as she could to the surface he had lost control of the magic which formed the air pocket. It had popped suddenly causing the water to press in quickly around them, cutting off his air supply and choking him. It was an odd sensation in two ways; one Hades normally would be able to manipulate magic, aether, the very will of the world itself around him with the ease of a person breathing. Instead he was becoming restrained and a slave to the mundane just as the rest of the shards inhabitants, which infuriated him. Two, he could not remember the last time he had been in a near death situation. The water had robbed him of his breath and filled his nose and mouth, Hades had felt fear as the dark waters close in around them. The sensation was a short lived as burst into breathable air, as once the bubble had popped she had been able to swim quickly to the surface.

Then suddenly he was thankful, realizing that it was the third time today he had been saved by her hands.

As Swath turned on her back to start kicking her feet, Hades found himself staring at the sky. The lazy clouds contrasted with the sensation of the water lapping around them. As Swath continued the journey towards shore Hades felt himself falling into his thoughts. His mind wandering back to the previous hours; more importantly, the incident with Amaurot and the butterfly. Hades realized that his magic was stunted, it deeply troubled him; his soul was not changed. Not fundamentally at least, it was still whole, still a soul of an Ancient. Yet the binds that Swath had put on him unknowingly had changed the flow. It limited him in ways that he hated. He theorized right there that being near her was like putting a cap upon his power. She was his limiter. Rightly so as well; his soul was properly bound to hers, her aether even now acting as gentle bindings. As such, Hades was reluctantly grateful to Swath’s existence. 

He was starting to feel more than just intervals of depression and hatred for the world around him. His heart beginning to sing with familiarity to her broken soul; it had been before of course, while they fought, while they traveled together. But Hades had silenced that song himself, because he had thought it was not her. Yet here he was leaning against Swath, hours ago his enemy with a blossoming trust. It likely was very possible with their growing relationship, he thought that he could overcome the limiter himself. Hades knew he would have to be careful so that he would not harm her, the strings that connected him to her likely worked both ways - as it did when he used her as a conduit for his magic. If he tried to bypass them he could possibly send negative feedback and hurt her. 

He felt a frown grace is brow momentarily as he took a quiet oath that he would do everything in his power not to harm her. For the sake of his budding feelings, and for the sake that she had gone against the wishes of her companions for his sake.

I’h will be using you, I’h will use yah as a reason for meh to live. The one I saved.

To use him as a reason to live. How much of the world was upon her shoulders? How many times did she feel like she failed to protect those around her? Closing his eyes he took in a breath. No, he would not add to that weight. While the chapter between the two of them had been finished she still had to contend with Elidibus. 

Opening his eyes he looked down at their bodies, the kicking of her feet and how she still wore her armor, but was seemingly unhindered. Elidibus was not as strong as Hades within the field of magic, but he was far more cunning of an opponent. Hades may have raised armies and empires, but even he did not know the extent Elidibus had upon the stage of the world. If Hades played his cards right; he knew he could become a valuable asset to Swath in the war against Zodiarks remaining forces. The thought caused his heart to clutch, with fear, loathing and excitement. To what extent had he been tempered? He wanted to know, he wanted to see; he wanted to fight back against his creation which he had served so dutifully. 

As the water splashed his face and he turned slightly to catch her face out of the corner of his eye. Though his the wet strands of his hair he could see her eyes closed, her face oddly relaxed. To what extent was she tempered? Could he use his bonds to free her as well? Hades slammed down hard on that train of thought, it would do no good to either of them thinking that way. If he severed the connection between the ‘Mother Crystal’ and Swath there could be a lot of backlash - her unnatural strength may fade, or worse yet, the Primal may retaliate to keep its hold on Swath. Hades couldn’t risk it, he wouldn’t. He would have to learn to accept her as she was now, while researching in the background about the effect of Primals. Hades had never given it much thought, had only understood the fundamentals. But it had been eons since he last picked up a book on the subject. Perhaps the people, of the various shards had learned something new that could help him in that front. 

He would fight for Swath’s right to choose; so that she could have the ending she deserved. For now he set the thoughts aside and began to shift to get himself a little more comfortable. To mitigate the sting of the sea water upon his exposed wound. As he shifted he heard the Viera woman give a content sigh. Turning his head he lifted a free hand to push back his still soaked hair to look at her better. Hades raised his eyebrows when he saw the wide grin and sparkle in her eye as she gazed at him. 

“Pray tell hero,” Hades asked hoarsely, letting his hand drop and clearing his throat in a futile attempt to rid his voice of its sudden roughness. “Why are you gazing at me with such an expression?”

“Happy,” Swath answered curtly. This caused Hades to frown; the one worded sentence had reminded him of the rumor that the hero was often a person of few words. How it often got her into trouble or unable to get proper information. Slight irritation bubbled in his chest as he reached out and seized her cheek between his thumb and forefinger pinching it. Her expression turned from joy to, while still happy, confusion. 

“Swath, that is not a valid answer to give me.” He chastised her as if she was one of his many children. He had been a father many times over, and while she was a grown woman he felt the need to remind her that speaking her mind would get better results than not. She blinked as he wiggled his fingers and then splayed his hand against her cheek caressing a small scratch that he found under her eyes. Hades felt a jolt of strange emotion as the Viera leaned into his hand. His eyebrows shooting up as he watched her nuzzle his palm; her face was one of contemplation. She was clearly thinking of what to say and debating her words. As she did she stopped moving, allowing the two of them to float in the sea. Hades watched as she collected her thoughts, her mismatched eyes shifting to look over him carefully. Then, her hands moved to free him from the bridal carry she had been holding him in. She left one hand on his upper back so that he would not float away from his place on her lap. With her other free hand she paddled lazily to keep their momentum going.

“A valid answer,” She repeated looking up to the sky, her white hair fanning out in the water like a halo. “This moment, I’hm happy for it.” Swath breathed, Hades pulled his hand away, as if her voice was releasing him from a spell. “I’h dun get moments like these oft.” Her gaze was focused on the sky and not the man in her arms. Hades felt his head tilt in curious wonder, and words began to tumble from his lips before he could stop or censor them.

“You are not given moments of reprieve often?” He shifted to let his body float in the sea water, only remaining on top of her by the grace of her one arm which still wrapped around his upper torso. “You were told to rest often, if I recall, did you not?” She laughed, the water around them splashing up to his face causing Hades to huff with frustration. He reached up to, in a futile attempt, wipe the drops from his face. “Do not laugh at me hero, I did not spy upon you while you were in your room. I may be a villain, but I am a villain with morals.” Suddenly with those words, the air changed, Swath looked down at him with a leer. As if she was reminded of something increasingly negative, Hades frowned back at her trying to gauge her emotions and failing. 

“Is tha’ what yah call it?” She looked at him with a surprisingly cold smirk. “Bein’ a villian with morals?” Swaths brows turned down into a frown. “Hades yah murdered millions yah know.” 

Ah, he thought, that was what it was. She was looking at him not as Emet-Selch, who did kill millions ‘indirectly’ - but as Solus zos Galvus, the warmongering man who killed millions by leading an army. He felt a mixture of anger and sadness, in the pit of his stomach. Hades did not want her to see him as anything but Hades. A rather fruitless wish, but one he had unknowingly had - one that had clearly been broken. He knew he could not take back the deeds he had committed, nor would he apologize for them. Hades at the time of committing them had firmly believed, tempered or not, that he had been doing the correct thing. 

Follow the plan, sacrifice the fragments to bring about the world once more. All would be well and Zodiark would bring them all back. 

The thought now, brought a bitter laugh to his lips. As it spilled past his restraint he could hear Swaths sharp intake of air - more shock at his reaction than anything. 

“Hero,” Hades began carefully, turning once more to fully look at her, making eye contact with ease. His expression was cool and collected, he knew full well that he could not escape his past. “While I understand that you feel like this is a conversation we must have, I humbly ask that we postpone it until we are not floating in the middle of the sea.” Hades emphasized this by lifting his hand and mentioning to the water around them. She stared at him as he let a gentle smile grace his lips. “All I will say is that you had the perfect chance to allow this world to be rid of this villain that you hold.” His words were cold - he knew this, but it was a truth he felt she must hear. “You chose to use me to live, and I accepted this. Until you grow tired of me, I will live.” Her face quickly darkened, it was not anger or sadness, that much Hades could tell. It was acceptance. She knew it was her choice, and she was not regretting it. But the golden eyed man could tell her mind spun with unasked questions; ones that likely neither of them could answer.

Why him? He who had done such wrongs? 

The silenced dragged on a moment more before Hades sighed heavily. “Let us think of such things later. You have not answered my original question and I am not fond of having the conversation changed.” He shifted looked back up at her, she stared at him with a soft smile that reached her eyes. The hand that was paddling stopped and she reached up to gently touch the wound upon his chest - while it stung he allowed her the movement. After a moment she began to propel them forward once more.

“Nay, I did not get much of ah reprieve in mah own quarters.” Swath finally spoke, conceding to Hades demand. The man marveled at her bluish skin that was tinted with a nearly invisible blush. Part of him felt glee that she was blushing because of his words. The heavy atmosphere that had nearly suffocated them moments ago was broken with a shared smile and chuckle. “I’h had ah, companion, tha often came tah speak tah me.” She lifted her head out of the water and Hades watched as her ears twitched, he reached up, grunting to help her keep them above the water for a little while. In doing so he was more sprawled out against her, but the hand on his back told him she did not mind. In fact it held him close to her breast as she started kicking again to give them more momentum. 

“Please continue hero, who was this companion?” He asked now leaning over her, his face frighteningly close to hers. His wet hair falling around them shielding them from the sting of the sun. Her eyes grew heavy as she looked at his face, and a strange expression - one that seemed to echo the strange emotion he had felt when he had first used her as a conduit painted itself across her features momentarily before she smiled. 

“He was ah lingerin spirit. One of tha ol’ Warriors of Darkness yah sent to terrorize me back in tha day.” Swath spoke with the grin upon her lips - a smile that caused the back of Hades’ neck to heat up. Was it the sun? Was it his own emotions? He was a right mess and could not tell.

But Hades had remembered the Warriors of Darkness - at least he what he had heard of them. It was Elidibus’ plan originally of course. That and Hades himself had been asleep at the time - he did not want to deal with petty schemes. Logically speaking from the point of being a Ascian, the plan had been a disaster. It had actually only benefited Swath and the Scions, more than likely setting in motion the events that would bring them to the moment they were in. Then Hades recalled the voice that had used her body to speak right before they engaged in combat, when he had momentarily thought the light had won out. “Ah,” he breathed, his lips tight as he looked down at her. Air whistled out of his mouth as he sighed. “The spirit that was part of your whole.” He moved his hand slightly so he could stroke her ear with his thumb. Causing that blush to creep back across her face. Hades, despite himself was pleased he could have such an affect on her. Clearing his throat he stopped and resumed just holding her ears out of the water. “I will endeavor to give you as much time as you need to rest when we return to the Crystarium.” Hades promised, causing her face to shift from embarrassment to surprise. “We can even devise a plan to keep your Scion companions from pestering you. You can blame it upon my wound, the fact that only you can rightly treat me.” He smiled as her hand became tighter around his back. She stopped kicking a moment, before reaching up with her other hand and bringing his head down to nuzzle against her. This time Hades blushed, how many times has she done this to him today? “Yes yes..” He murmured, sighing shifting to press his third eye against her forehead. “Enough of that.” 

Under him, the Viera beamed clearly content with his actions as he moved away. She moved and shifted him in her arms as she did. He allowed her too, and soon he was being held bridal style again. “Tha will also give us plenty o’time ta talk about yah past.” Swath teased gently, her words quiet and sobering. They made Hades smile sadly at her.

“If that is what you wish to converse about during that time I will not protest.” He felt her begin to kick her legs with more gusto and her face was no longer focused on him. She was gazing towards the shore which was approaching quickly now. Their reprieve was now over; and it would likely continue to be until certain matters were discussed and plotted out. He was a man that was supposed to be beyond redemption, one that only deserved death as his final outcome. Looking down at his wound he let his shoulders sag. He had done horrible things - things he did not regret, and despite being freed from the chains of temperament he could not truly tell what had been his own desires and actions and what had been the will of Zodiark influencing him.

It vexed him, he continually repeated that he did not regret his actions, but at the same time the amount of life that had been lost caused a strange knot to form in his stomach. Stray thoughts continually reared their head against his usual logic.

What if this could have happened sooner? What if one of those people he had killed had been her?

Her hands brought him out of his dark musings; Hades had to reach out and grip her collar as she brought her feet down onto the sand, as she twisted she and Hades momentarily went under the water, before she stood straight up. Their clothing cascading with water, the golden eyed man coughed and sputtered out as much salt water from his lungs as he could. He looked at her with frustration but her apologetic smile and gentle squeeze quickly caused what minor irritation he had with her to dissipate. Swath walked with purpose until they were out of the water completely. Suddenly her shoulders dropped and Hades for the first time noticed that her soul was dim - that she was exhausted. 

“Can yah stand alright?” Swath suddenly asked, turning her tired gaze to him. He nods, and she set him down carefully pain laced through his chest down to his feet, with a sharp inhale he stood as straight as his back allowed. He felt his legs wobble and he shut his eyes momentarily, her hands still on his back and shoulder. Reaching up, he grabbed her hand entwining their fingers and giving a squeeze. 

“Yes, I will be fine Swath.” Hades looked up at her face, her eyes scanning his expression carefully before giving him another soft smile. Then, the two of them heard the stampeding footsteps and the calling of Swaths name, from the Scions and other unfamiliar voices. Hades watched as her face turned with confusion and then hardened into a familiar form. It was a manner that he had seen her take many times during her journey. “Your public awaits you Hero.” He smiled as she side eyed him, taking a step back he gently swept his arm up in a bow. “I shall remain a shadow at your side.” 

“Yah better,” Swath muttered lowly. She reached out and pulled him closer, and behind her. “Do not leave mah side Hades.” Watching her curiously he shrugged. 

“I will always watch you from the shadows.” He murmured, taking half a step back as the crowd reached them. Most of them Hades realized he recognized from the reconstruction of the lift and the giant golem. They all came to welcome her back from their fight. He looked away as the Scions rushed in. 

That was right, he was the enemy of these people - no he had been. He was no longer in a position to rightfully call himself a villain. He was just an onlooker, an outsider, a ghost that should have died. The noise of the conversation became background noise as Hades eyes gazed across the beach. He could see in the distance the lift - his mind returning to the conversation that he had with her. Hades smiled, it was not a bad memory to dwell upon, the din of the people was easily ignored as his eyes continued scanning the scenery until it fell upon Eulmore itself. The city loomed in the distance and the sight of it caused that knot to return to his stomach. He had done a terrible thing there. Hades had sentenced an innocent unborn child and its mother to certain death, to become a monster and corrupted the father to set the cogs of the rejoining in motion. 

Raising his hand to the wound upon his chest he let it hover there, he felt slick with sweat as the knot continued to twist. What was this feeling, was this regret? What was he feeling regret for? No, it was not setting the plan of the rejoining in motion, was it because of the child? Did he feel regret for creating a twisted creature that should have grown with love and care from its parents? He clenched his fist against his chest as what he could only describe as a fever grew. Shutting his eyes he took a deep steadying breath, pushing the knot away. Hades knew he did not have the time to deal with whatever he was feeling. Although the feeling dissipated the heat did not. Reaching up he pressed his ungloved hand to his face. It was fruitless but he tried to feel if a sudden fever was coming on. It was strange, why would he suddenly be getting sick? He should not be able to - even when he possessed a body and let it age he had rarely gotten ill. Another steadying breath, but his legs began to feel like jelly, and his chest ached. Unexpectedly he felt cool hands pressing against his forehead and cheek. Hades also then realized that the conversation from the crowd had dulled, and looking back he saw Swath before him and the people behind her chatting away with each other.

“Hades?” Her facade was down as her face quickly scanned his. One of her hands pressed firmly against his forehead and the other trailed down intermittently pressing on his cheeks and neck searching for heat. Sighing he reached up and seized her wandering hand and entwined his hand to hers.

“Yes Hero, did I miss anything of importance? The conversation was boring me.” He shrugged, giving her an exhausted smile trying to convey that he was fine and just because he was clearly taking ill he refused to be a burden. While he would admit openly that her hands felt soothing he would not say that amidst strangers. 

“Are yah developin ah fever?” Swath asked him slowly so that the others did not hear them. 

He shrugged. “Even if I am, there is little to do about it here. I will persevere until the point I cannot.” Hades body was starting to become sore, he was truly getting sick. Perhaps the stress of the day, being pulled from death, and being drowned in various emotions that he had not felt in eons was even too much for him. 

“Can ah Ascian catch a fever?” She muttered leaning back touching his face again. Again, Hades shrugged. 

“Hero,” His tone was a gentle warning. “Do not obsessed over my health at the moment. There are many pressing matters to attend to.” Raising his hand he waved to Thancred, who was now looming behind her, Swath, surprised, spun on her heel with unusual speed for one so exhausted. Hades smiled, because as she turned she did in such a fashion so that their hands were still entwined. A small gesture that she did not have to do, and one that further convoluted Hades feelings. He knew he was falling in love with her; it was a familiar feeling. He would not stop the descent of love either, but he doubted that he would ever act upon it. It was not his place to woo the hero of light and darkness. Regardless if she had been his love in her past life.

“Thancred!” She blurted out causing him to heave a sigh and wave towards a path. “Ah, ‘re we ready ta go?” 

“Yes, we are,” The white haired man then eyed Hades who raised his eyebrows at him. The man scanned the former Ascian, lingering on his wound with a frown. “Can you even walk?” 

Hades face twisted up into a frown. He actually did not know if he could or not. With the wound starting to hurt again and the fever on top of it all he likely was doing his best to remain standing. “Does it matter if I can walk or not?” He eyed Thancred carefully who shrugged.

“I ask only out of concern for Swath, if you cannot she likely will try to carry you again.” Waving his hand dismissively Thancred looked away. “I really don’t care what happens to you.” Hades grinned as he felt small waves of anger coming off of Swath. The golden eyed man knew that she probably did not understand her attachment to him, and while the feeling was mutual he was still grateful that she wished to defend him so. 

Hades took a step forward his hand practically dragging Swath along. His steps where unsteady but he refused to allow his weakening body to win out. The hero quickly fell behind Hades as he followed Thancred. Further ahead of them was the crowd, all huddled around the Exarch. Ah, this was why they needed to hurry forward. The Exarch could not be too long from the Tower, he would grow weak. How could he have forgotten? Before them Thancred jogged to meld into the group leaving Swath and Hades trailing behind. After several moments, Hades could see the twins and the child Ryne throwing glances at them. Ryne clearly looking at both Swath and Hades while the twins only looked at Swath. They wanted her to join them that much was clear, he leaned his head towards her. 

“Swath,” He said her name carefully, gauging her reaction. In response to her name he felt her grasp on his hand tighten, causing him to sigh. She was being stubborn, Hades realized whatever he said she would not leave him. Regardless he would try for the sake of the young ones. “You should go to them, you have won after all.” 

“Tha victor writes tha story?” Came her murmur. 

He frowned. “Why are you repeating my words?” The question came with a bit of malice from Hades, she should just leave him and go towards her companions. Continually fussing over him would achieve nothing. 

“What kind ah story do yah think we will write?” She asked looking towards the people jovial and clearly celebrating. Hades frowned, his eyes focused on her face, while his mind only focused on walking forward. “How will yah be painted? As ah fellow victim as tha Exarch?” Hades grew quiet as his gaze frantically searched her rather blank face for some inkling of her thoughts. “As tha villain?” Swaths voice trailed off and she looked down at their entwined hands. 

“How would you like the story written Hero?” Hades asked suddenly, stopping his gait causing her to stop as well. The rabble continued except for the Scions who paused to keep an eye on them. Hades cared not if they watched, he looked at her blank face, as if she was frightened of what was to come. He reached out and took her other hand holding them he asked again. “You, are the victor Swath, not your fellows, you. How would you, like the conclusion to this chapter to be written?” 

Swath looked at him with shock, as if no one had ever actually asked her that. Once again her face was deep in consideration. “I wish for ah happy endin.” She muttered, “One where it says tha I saved yah.”

Hades smirked, “Then make sure it is written as such hero.” Turning he released her other hand and raised it to his forehead. He was again drenched in sweat, beside him Swath took the lead catching up to the other Scions who had been waiting for them. Ahead of them was a prepared set of steeds to allow them to fly back to the Crystarium. Hades felt his shoulders slump a little, he did not have the energy to hold onto a beast. As the Scions settled on their steeds and made sure the Exarch was comfortable Swath led Hades to a large one and climbed on, only to hold her hand out to him. He frowned.

“Ride with meh Hades.” She breathed, “I’h wanna make sure yah dun pass out.” Hades chuckled and using nearly the last of his energy climbed onto the beast behind her. She shifted and leaned back letting her messed up ponytail rest on his head. “Hold onta me.” Frowning he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned into her back. It was broad, not as broad as his of course. Physically she was still slimmer than him even though she was clearly much more muscular and towered over him. The beast easily launched into the air making his head spin, soon the ground was far below them and they were on their way back to the Crystarium. 

His destiny awaited there, the pivotal moments that would begin to change him. Hades knew this, but his attention span was once again nonexistent as the fever began to grow, heating him up. Shutting his eyes he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. He would not pass out, he would hold strong until he could properly collapse. Where he was not a burden to her. 

The thought was short lived as his consciousness faded and he slumped against her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! Had a bit of issue with the pacing~
> 
> My twitter: @tfirekeeper (i post a lot of my stupid doodles)  
Tumblr: @theaetherhealerffxiv (where I post a lot of my stupid musings)


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awaking back in the Crystarium Hades finds himself bed ridden and at the mercy of the Warrior of Light.

The air around him was scorching, the blistering heat upon his skin caused a flush to gently spread across his cheeks, which remained hidden under his mask. His mask was red like the scene before him; falling stars came at high speeds from the sky and pelted the ground with such force that it destroyed whole buildings. In the place of stone, flames licked the very ground melting the various architecture around it; the vegetation so lovingly planted went up like a parched valley of grass during a lightning storm. Then there was the monsters, born from the fear of the people roamed the streets as well, preying on the fallen members of society that could not outrun their fears. On top of the destruction the screams of terror and the littering of his fellows bodies accented the piece like a grim painting. Yet, Hades stood above it all in an ivory tower relatively unscaithed by the termination. He was displaced from the chaos that he desperately wished to quench. At the moment he could turn upon his heel and gather with his fellows, to begin the summoning and attempt to rewrite the laws of their precious star. 

Yet he at the same time did not want to be apart of it. Instead Hades wanted to be down among the dead and dying to search for his beloved and his most trusted friend. To wrap her up in his arms and protect her from the beasts and destruction. Clenching his fist he took in a shaking breath, what was the nature of a plan that consisted of giving the planet a will? It was abstract at best - of course he believed it was their best attempt at saving their home, but gazing upon the destruction he could not help but feel that it futile. Hades would rather throw it all away to hold her again; what if she died? What if their magicks succeeded but she died? Could he live with himself if he lost the one that was most precious to him? As he pondered his greatest fears a meteor fell dangerously close to his perch, throwing dirt and scorch marks upon his mask and black robe. 

He could leave - he could leave right at that moment. He could forsake the convocation and go to her side. Surely they could summon this will without him; each where powerful in their own right. Hades lifted his head, deciding he would not participate, he would sneak out while they conversed in the room beyond the one he hid away in.

“Ah, this was where you were hiding Emet-selch.” Hades felt shock course through his body like a sickness as he heard his title come from behind him, the voice which spoke it was rough and irritated. He had been spotted, he could no longer flee. Quickly masking as much anger as he could Hades turned to gaze at Lahabrea, whose exposed mouth was turned downward into a harsh grimace that bore wrinkles into the sides of his lips. “Pray tell, why are you out here? We need you for the summoning.” 

Feeling his brows bunch together in a deep frown Hades returned to look out at the carnage. He could push past Lahabrea, run outside, look for her. Hades reached into the pocket of his robe, in it a small pouch with a wristband made of his aether. He had been fully prepared to propose to her tomorrow. He did not care enough currently to summon this great being. Hades understood that it was the best bet for the survival of their people, but he just did not care. He could not muster enough emotion to care about it. Instead his entire being was focused on the bloody painting before him. His lips parting as he breathed out her name, a prayer to the Underworld to not call her soul to rest. Clutching the band his gaze was captured by the destruction. A hand suddenly was slapped against his shoulder with such force Hades turned his head to glare with as much venom as he could muster to the person he knew was behind him. 

“Emet-Selch,” Now Lahabrea’s voice was low and deadly. Hades leered at him as he continued, his hand digging further into the golden eyed man’s robes. “There is little time for you to be staring at the destruction before you, I care not of your reasons to be doing such an act but we need you to hurry and come so that we can - “

Hades’s eyes narrowed, a smirk of pure rage twitching at the sides of his lips. He did not care, he wanted to be with his precious people. “Save the star, write the laws anew.” Hades recited the lines without passion. How many times had he heard them? He had believed in them up until this very moment when faced with the destruction that the termination had wrought upon their home. Shrugging off Lahabrea’s hand he bowed his head, knowing he was caught between a rock and wall. He was a trapped animal; if he forsook his comrades and they succeeded, they would do everything in their power to alienate him. Hades knew if this was the case he would not be able to propose to her, or even show his face in the streets of Amaurot. Shutting his eyes he took a step forward, away from his peer. If they did not succeed, he would have abandoned his love in her time of need. Which was the better punishment? Saving the world and possibly sacrificing the only thing he truly lived for, or forsaking his future if the convocation was successful? Biting the inside of his cheek he struggled with his thoughts; he believed in the plan, even with the dread growing in the pit of his belly. It was illogical, but possible. In his mind, he could see her smiling and telling him to go, succeed, save their home. 

To come back home to her arms. 

His hand was still in his pocket and he clutched the bag one last time before walking forward with purpose to the room in which the convocation stood whispering to one another. Hades knew Lahabrea was behind him and he chose to ignore it as he took his place in the circle. Once settled into his place Hades took stock of the atmosphere and surroundings. It was the same as always - a tall dark room with chairs that had been pushed back against the wall. The table had been moved as well and in its place a crystal had been placed. Frowning at it Hades turned to look at Elidibus, who smiled at him. It was not a warm smile, or one that created an illusion of understanding and sympathy. It was cold and judging, Elidibus knew Hades was struggling and was judging his actions. Glaring at the white robed man Hades turned away, he would not be judged by the likes of that man. 

Reaching up Hades adjusted his mask absentmindedly. Realizing he still felt the heat from the window - in fact he was burning up, sweat dripping from the corners of his hairline. Taking a steadying breath Hades attempted to quell the heat, knowing it was likely futile. 

“As our final two members grace our presence, we can now properly begin the incantation.” Elidibus’ voice caused Hades to look back up, the man had his arms outstretched that same smile spread across his face. “I pray that you, my peers, will focus your various magicks upon me. I shall become the conduit for those who have chosen to give their lives for this as well. I shall set the spell in motion so that we may create a being that embodies our planets will.” Leaning his head back Elidibus took in a deep breath, and if it was possible to spread his arms out further. The various souls that had been floating around the room spilled into the man. Hades grimace; the creation power that those souls held was emmese. Could Elidibus truly contain such a power? “Come! We shall write this terrible wrong and save our people!” The white robed man tilted his head back down and smiled, indicating that the rest of those present copied his movements. 

Hades lifted his hands to mimic Elidibus’, but as he did so he felt a sting, as if something was sinking its claws deep into his flesh. It was not in one place of his body either, it happened several times over his entire form. He frowned, this was unusual for creation magic - it could drain you but it rarely caused such physical sensations. Regardless, Hades closed his eyes to briefly think of his loved ones, of Hythlodaeus who surely would ask how this went on the morrow, and of her. Of how he would propose to her, place the band upon her wrist and kiss her. Then, Hades released the thoughts before they were pulled into the spell causing it to be altered. Opening his eyes he allowed himself to be swept up with thoughts of creating a will for the planet. He focused all of these thoughts upon Elidibus, along with his magics, channeling all that he had to the white robed man to use freely. 

Everything happened quickly, there was a great overflow of magic that came from Elidibus and spread warping the very room itself and obscuring Hades vision as it encased him in a cocoon of darkness. It confused and drew Hades’ curiosity as it spiraled around his arms like vines drawing taunt enough to shape out various body parts from his cloak. Then, the vines changed they grew heavy and became chain-like. Hades jerked back in shock, trying to pull away from the magics but finding himself rooted firmly to his spot. The darkness began to recede and the golden eyed man noticed that the other members of the convocation had similar chains around them. Throwing his gaze towards Elidibus, who had the most chains out of all of them, smiling wickedly in a triumphant fashion. Shaking his head Hades followed the other man’s gaze towards the middle of their circle, to where the crystal had been. There, purple crystals had grown out and around a figure that had not been standing there before. Relaxing his hands to his sides because of the weight of the aetheric chains Hades felt his stomach drop. 

They had succeeded, but something was off. The creation was dark, a shadow robed in aether, it had the aura of peace and purpose but something felt twisted. Within its hands it held the other end of the chains that had captured the convocation members. It lifted its head and carefully looked around the room, before straightening its back. Hades felt its voice before he heard it, like something deep in his chest moving and worming its way into the core of his being, changing him. Lifting a hand to his chest he frowned, a thought of doubt drifting across his mind before suddenly it was gone. All doubt about the being before him was gone.

Then, it spoke physically. Its voice booming around the room.

“I am Zodiark.” It said. “I shall save those who live upon me.”

—-

Hades awoke with a start, his eyes flying open and with a gasp he clutched at the blankets that covered him as a hot pain laced through his chest, as if it were attempting chasing away something. His face scrunched into a tight grimace as he attempted to catch his breath. Only for a coughing seizure to tear through his chest as the pain subsided, raising a hand he grasped at his breast. Hades eyes darting around the darkened room, where was he? After his coughing subsided the man cast his mind back to the last thing he remembered - that he had been holding onto Swath as they flew towards the Crystarium. Once they had reached a cruising altitude his memory abruptly failed him and faded to an unfamiliar darkness. As realization of what had happened dawned upon him, he cursed low under his breath. Of course his foul luck would lead him to passing out against the hero. Struggling with an unfamiliar and weak body, Hades managed to prop himself up on his elbows. In the dim light see that his chest had been expertly bandaged, while clearly already blooming with his bodily fluids. He could see that it was done by the hands of an expert. Had his hero been the one to do such? Was she capable of such ministrations? Taking a deep breath he decided to ask her when she came into the room, then moved his attention away from his thoughts to the room around him.

Turning his head he saw a basin resting on the side table, with a dirty cloth stained with blue aether and blood similar to the colors that stained his chest, but duller. Curious now, Hades shifted to lean on one arm as he lifted his other to find it too had various small bandages covering the cuts that had dotted his skin. Raising his eyebrows and taking a second to marvel at the craftsmanship he exhaled sharply, leaning to lay upon his back once more. Then, with his raised hand he reached up to press the palm to his forehead. Feeling a lump begin to grow within the pit of his stomach, Hades was frustrated, mostly at himself. He had passed out while they had flown to their next destination. He could only imagine the trouble he had caused Swath; he was clearly in her room. While he had not watched her as she had rested, but he had allowed himself time to become familiar with the various objects that decorated her abode. As he gazed at the room another frown graced his features. Why was he so concerned with causing trouble to her? She wanted to use him to live, was this not what she wanted? His hand tightened his fingers gripping his disheveled hair pulling it taunt. Using each other, that was the deal right? Then why did it make his heart heavy when he thought of her face, strained and exhausted? 

An unbidden frustrated moan slipped from his lips. 

Hades was a fool, he realized this with sudden clarity. His heart was heavy because he cared, he cared about her emotions, cared about her. He had hours ago felt his heart begin to fall for the Viera, why was he denying it now? Why was he trying to cling to his nonchalant temperament that he had while he was tempered? 

No, his personality had not even been that, it had been disconnected from the world around him. He had been but a ghostly participant. Now he had been thrust back into the realm of the living and he was feeling things he no longer understood. Letting out a groan he tore his hand away from him and let it drop to his side. Realizing this made him think about the emotions he had felt looking at Eulmore, was it regret? Had he felt regret because his actions? And what about when he was trying to be useful to Swath by opening that portal? Had it been determination? 

Shutting his eyes for a moment he attempted to sort through the various emotions that swirled in his breast. It was overwhelming, and while he should sort through them and rediscover himself it was not the appropriate time to be dealing with his new found freedom. Shifting he opened his eyes and sighed. It was useless to try to conjure these feelings in a futile attempt to understand. His mind was still a swirling mess but, as usual he had to attempt to set aside these thoughts and focus on other more pressing matters. Swath could still come back at any moment and she did not need to deal with a bed ridden Ascian that was attempting to recall exactly what certain emotions felt like. That was not a disaster that she needed to help him sort through, and the Ascian had a feeling that if he allowed himself to wallow in these thoughts she would.

Instead he gazed around the room with a frustrated and strained smile on his lips. As he released those twisting thoughts and allowed his mind to drift back to the dream he had right before waking up. In an attempt of a distraction for his wandering mind.

As Hades recalled the various parts of the dream he realized that, no, it had not been a dream. He now frowned, his brow furrowing deeply; it had been a memory of the destruction of Amaurot and the creation of Zodiark. Hades had not been plagued by that dream since Elidibus had awoken him. The memory had once been fuel that had stoked the fire within his chest, but now it only caused a knot of indescribable emotion to form in the pit of his belly. It twisted violently and uncomfortably as he thought about the chains of the primal, chains he had honestly forgotten about initially. Until Swath had destroyed them. Had it been because Zodiark was truly a primal? With the ability to alter one’s will? Sighing Hades pushed the unpleasant thoughts away to the best of his ability, he knew once again it was not the best time to be wallowing in the various tragedies and mistakes of his past, nor the possibilities of what Zodiark was. Those thoughts were for another time. Laying back upon the pillow he groaned as pain shot through his breast, taking in a breath he shut his eyes only for a moment before he heard the door at the foot of the bed open.

“Thank yah, I’m fine though, please continue the celebration without me!” Swaths voice was strained with false excitement, clearly intent on getting whomever was bothering her to leave her alone. Hades shifted as she spoke, leaning on his elbows again as he caught a glimpse of her white hair and ears through the divider. The rest of her was obscured by the wood design and the darkness of the room. He frowned, as her ears folded back, clearly the individual was trying to coerce her to return to the festivities. “Nay,” She said again her voice now low. “I’h must check on mah guest, did yeh forget that he is unwell?” There was a low apology and then a sigh from the Viera. “Aye, I’h know, thank yah again. Please go enjoy tha party.” With that she closed the door and let go of a breath that Hades had not realized she had been holding in. 

From his place on the bed he watched as she pressed her forehead against the door, her shoulders drooping. Raising his eyebrows he tilted his head a little, his hair falling in the way of his view. After a moment of watching her Hades cleared his throat. “Attempting to escape the festivities held in your honor hero?” He watched with a twang of joy as he saw her ears straighten and a smile spread across her weary face as she turned to gaze at him through the divider. 

“Yah are awake,” She moved with surprising swiftness as she hurried to his side. Hades’ golden eyes followed her as the feeling of joy spreading from his belly to the rest of his body warming him. His brows turned down into a gentle expression as she reached the side of the bed and collapsed to her knees. “How are yah feelin?” Swaths hand reached out and pressed against his forehead, and momentarily he shut his eyes reveling in the feeling of her touch. He was growing accustomed to it, and honestly beginning to crave it. She rested her hand there for only a moment before shifting and gently thumbing over his third eye, another more familiar sensation jolted through Hades as he struggled to stay on one arm as he lifted his right hand to seize her hand in an attempt to make her stop her movements.

As he gently moved her hand away from his third eye he smiled his signature lopsided smile at her. “I am doing much better thanks to the many ministrations you performed upon me.” He nodded towards the soiled bowl. Moving her hand away from his grasp she gingerly pressed down on various parts of his chest. 

“Aye, was nothin really,” There was a blush on her cheeks which once again caused that sensation to run through him like lightning. It was also accompanied by several familiar emotions, but he was truly only able to partially understand them. He felt joy, he felt his heart leap towards her; falling for her , although the sensation was different than what he remembered. Hades moved his arm back in position so that both supported him, as he continued to watch her frown down at the blooming blue that appeared after her hand left a certain area of his chest. It did not hurt him beyond a small sting, but as she lifted her hand away she reached behind her and grabbed the rag. “Yah are still leakin aether.” She sighed and shifted so that she was looking at him. The rag poised in her hands expectantly, her hands hovering over his chest waiting. 

Hades sighed, and laid back on the back letting his arms stretch out in mock defeat. “Yes, go ahead Swath, do what you need to do.” With that she quickly set about unwrapping his chest, it was a little awkward at the angle he was at but every time he attempted to move and help her a firm hand pressed him back into the bed. He was growing increasingly amused by her actions, as he watched her he could feel the stinging with each strip of bandage removed. So in an attempt to distract himself from the incoming pain Hades focused on the face of the Warrior of Light; her brow furrowed in concentration she seemed oblivious to the world around her. He knew that was a farce though. Any slight movement done by his form would immediately be silenced by a firm hand. Swaths hair was tied back at the moment as she worked over him, it had been so when she came into the room as well. Her one golden eye darted around as she finished unwrapping the bandages. 

Hades shifted a little and Swath allowed him to do so, before placing a hand on his shoulder once more looking at him seriously. “This is gunna hurt.” 

He opened his mouth to protest but she did not wait, grabbing the damp cloth she opened it and laid it down over the faintly glowing wound on his chest. Hades frowned, she lied, it had not hurt. It stung a little that was for sure - his thoughts were cut short as he watched her hand, seemingly mimic the soft aura of his chest, press down on the towel. 

Then pain burned through him like a wildfire. It started from her hand which splayed stiffly against his stomach and then simultaneously went to his toes and his head. Everything hurt, it reminded him of her trying to pull his soul back from the afterlife. Hades felt his hands tense up in the sheets and through the pain realized that Swath was holding onto one of his hands - the one closest to her. As quickly as the fire started it was staunched as her hand was lifted away from his body. Gasping Hades fell limp upon the bed, gulping the cool air like a lifeline. 

“Pray tell hero, was that necessary?” He leered at her his voice exceptionally weak, but her response to him was just a shrug. Which caused him to continue glaring at her weary eye. 

“Aye, twas. I’h need tah infuse yah with aether till yah stabilize.” Her face told him she wished to say more, to say that if she did not he would die. Rolling his eyes he looked toward the ceiling and heaved a long sigh which caused his body to radiate dull pain. A murmur then came from her lips. “Though yah seem pretty stable right now.”

“Do as you wish Swath,” Hades murmured. The pit in his stomach was back and he knew he could no longer fight her, nor did he wish too. His life was hers, only hers. “I do believe at this moment in time you know more about the situation than I, as much as I loathe to admit.” Letting his body relax he closed his eyes, sleep would not come easy. The pain was still present, a soft throbbing in the core of his stomach. There was also the fact that she was in the room with him, and while her presence did relax him it also cause that storm of emotions to stir in his breast. Opening his eyes he shifted his head to look at her, Swath had moved to sit by his head on the floor. She had covered her blind eye once again with an eye-patch, but what truly made Hades wish to recoil was the fact she was so close to him. Though his body refused to move, and instead he just blinked a few times in her direction. She smiled and reached up brushing away his dark brown hair that slipped to obscure his face. 

“I’h do, sadly. I’h wish I didn’t. Awfully similar tah some wounds I’ve had in the past.” Swath shrugged and Hades opened his mouth to protest and respond with a question, but instead found her continuing. “But yah are a captive audience. I’h figure since yah are up we should have that talk.” 

Hades snapped his jaw shut, ah yes the talk about his past and the future. The future he hoped to have by her side. “Yes, I consented to being interrogated about this,” Hades murmured, Swath turning to gaze at him again her face solemn. Raising a weary hand he waved it briefly before letting it fall limply back at his side. “Ask away hero, I will answer truthfully, as I always have.”

She beamed, it was a melancholy filled smile. “I know,” Swath turned to gaze at the other side of the room chewing on her lip briefly. “Hades, yah where Solus correct?”

He frowned, what sort of question was this? He plainly said when they first met that he had been Solus zos Galvus and countless others, but sighing he humored her. “Yes, I was Solus.”

“Do yah remember a small village in the Garlean mountains?” As the words slipped from her mouth he felt his heart clench as she tilted her head away from him. “Small village that worshiped a Primal like entity. Quiet, peaceful, only did trade with otha towns once ah blue moon.” Hades watched as her body became rigid and her ears flattened. Her hand, which had been resting on the bed side fell away and fell limply in her lap. “Tha town was mah home. I’h was raised there. It was destroyed, by Emporer Solus’ word.” 

Hades turned away, “By Zodiark,” He murmured shifting lifting his heavy hand to his face. This was regret, this was sorrow, this was fear; these emotions in his breast that threatened to suffocate him. He remembered that order, he remembered hearing about that small village of possible primal worshipers in his lands. Hades remembered being something similar to gleeful, he would sow more destruction, he had thought, and hasten the rejoining. He had sent some of his best men to that village to destroy it. Hades had not known that inadvertently he would created the Warrior of Light, that he had created the woman that sat next to him. Part of him was happy he did such, because he had been saved by her hand, but it was easily eclipsed by the regret. He had taken everything from her. 

“I’h was also nearly killed by those men yah sent.” Hades flinched as she spoke up again. “I’h, I’h dont ask for an apology Hades. I’h just wanted tah know if yah did send them.” Her voice was soft, broken. It was not all she wanted to talk about, this much was clear, but it was the most prominent thing on her mind. 

He took in a deep breath. “Yes, I did send those men. I intended to wipe out the entire village, for the local villages to begin to think I was losing my mind and hasten the fear in those lands.” Hades laughed bitterly. “The quicker the rejoining the better after all.”

“I’h see,” Swaths voice petered out to nothing and silence fell over the two of them. It persisted for a long time, until Hades lifted his hand from his face and saw a blur of white and grayish blue suddenly eclipse what little light was in the room. “Hades,” Swath was over him her hands on either side of his face, hers awfully close to his. “Yah life is mine,” Her one uncovered eye staring with heat into his own pools of gold. “I’h choose yah, the one who took my family from me, to be mine.” 

Once again silence fell over the room, Hades lifted his heavy hand to wrap around her arm. He did not do so in such a way that he threatened to throw her off of him, no, he did not have the strength for that. What he did have the strength for was to hold her there. To hold her above him and not let go. 

“I will not die unless you say, I will not leave the Crystarium without your word, I am yours to command Swath,” Hades said evenly, watching as her eye widened clearly not expecting his proclamation. To him, it made sense, they were using each other, at least up to this point that had been the deal. The deal was different now. “My life, Swath, is yours. I will ask for nothing in return.” After all he had no right to ask such things, she was a hero and he washed up villain. Hades did not know if he would ever have the power he once did because of Swath acting like a cap upon him, but in truth he did not care. His life was hers, it had been the moment he opened his eyes returning from death by her hands. Swath had given him a second chance at life, a second chance to live. He had to live with everything wrong he had done yes, and he had done terrible wrongs to the one person he was coming to care deeply for. He could not atone for that. Hades squeezed her arm with what power he had in his muscles and willed his message to get across. He was a Ascian, but from this point on he was her Ascian. Not Zodiarks, not Elidibus’, hers. 

“Give me, give me some of yah aether to seal the deal.” Swaths voice shook as she asked this, the command caused him to raise his eyebrows. 

“Excuse me hero, you wish for what?” Hades shifted as she got off of him sitting at the side of the bed, hanging only one leg off of it still crowding him as he struggled to sit up. His body was heavy and did not obey his commands properly, but after he got halfway up and was about to slip backwards her hands where there holding him up. Again, she was close to close. They had been this close only hours before, but her request was something increasingly intimate. 

“Aether, mine is already in yah,” She lifted a hand away and gently jabbed his chest, a section that was not wounded. “Its only fair yah know.” 

“I do not think you understand what you ask.” Hades muttered leaning his head away from her, while trying to keep his thundering heart in check. This was panic right? This feeling that caused him to wish for the energy to flee from the room. Of course he had no such energy and was sufficiently trapped by Swaths form. She let her hand graze his chest back to his shoulder.

“I’h do, yeah it could hurt meh but I’h need tah know yah are serious. Its like ah bindin spell.” Swath frowned at him, her expression still intense. Hades took in in a steadying breath, she wanted this. 

It was different from using her as a conduit for his magics; his aether just passed through her harmlessly, but to mix them. He frowned, looking inward, feeling his own aether. Hades earlier had recognized that his soul was fundamentally the same yet something was different, was it his aether? After a moment he saw it, around his darkly colored soul was surrounded by a slight golden glow. Her aether, a bit of her soul. Hades swallowed, looking at her - she had mixed their aether. Against his wishes a blush traveled from his neck to his cheeks. Causing the Viera to lean back surprised. Hades could tell she was about to ask but he shook his head, if this is what she wanted he would do it. “Yes, yes alright hero if this is the assurance you wish for I will give you some of my aether.” He watched as she relaxed, although her expression was still one of confusion. “Do not regret this.” Hades muttered, advice for the both of them as he shifted to press his hand against her chest. Then with a slight frown took in a deep breath and leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. 

His third eye pressed uncomfortably against her skin but he ignored it, he focused on her form her hands that held him and his hand on her chest. Releasing his deep breath he reached for the familiar route he took when he used her as a conduit, but instead of allowing his aether to pass by her he pushed it outward around her, into her. She gasped and he ignored it, pushing further, feeling no resistance. Then there was a snap and he pulled his head back, taking in a steadying breath. 

By Zodiark he was now painfully aware of her, moving his body away to the best of his ability he felt her hands release him. Hades did not look at her face as he pressed his back against the headboard of the bed, but once he was settled he looked back up and saw that she was crying. He recoiled looking at her with disgusted shock, why was she crying? Why would she cry after asking something so intimate of him? He was about to open his mouth to rebuke her, and remind her that he had said that she should not regret asking such a thing. Instead his words died on his lips as she raised her hand to her cheek, seemingly equally surprised as he. 

“Was tha their wish too?”

“Whose wish hero?” Hades asked as he leaned forward, the panic returning. “Whose wish?” The Ascians mind raced, he had not shown her anything through that bond had he? Then it dawned on him, the dreaded ‘Crystal mothers’ blessing, the echo. “What did you see Swath,” He reached out to her, her wide eyes causing his breaths to come quick. “Swath who did you see.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come over to my tumblr for more Emet-selch pain! t@theaetherhealerffxiv


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